


The Princess' Groom

by Dorklepuff



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Princess Bride (1987)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, Crossover, F/M, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-20 05:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15526947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorklepuff/pseuds/Dorklepuff
Summary: Did someone ask for a Princess Bride AU? Starring Adrien as the Princess and Marinette as the dreaded Lady in Red, with cameos from some other great characters. Adrien is sucked into the story of The Princess Bride by an akumatized author known as Copyright, and Ladybug dives in to save him. With Adrien's memories wiped, her only chance to get them both out safely is to maneuver through the story without being caught by the author. A story full of fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, and, of course, miracles.





	1. Copyright

 

_The book or the pen? The book OR the pen?!_

Ladybug frantically dodged a spell from an errant wizard before swinging away from an orc’s club. Her yo-yo struck enemy after enemy, taking down beloved (and not-so-beloved) characters from movies and books as yet another akumatized Parisian trapped those who had wronged them.

Copyright, as she dramatically declared herself, was a small-time author who’s latest book had been stolen and published by the thief. Now, she was out for revenge on the publisher who released the unknowingly-stolen book. Brandishing the steely eyes and manic energy of all akuma victims, she appeared to be able to summon film and book characters with a quick stroke of her pen ( _the **book** or the **pen??!** )_. None of this boded well for the quickly tiring Ladybug, who was trying to fight past a crowd of magicians, superheroes, and fantastic creatures. She considered herself lucky that Copyright didn’t seem to be a fan of dragons, as she fully expected one to appear any second.

She was sure she could grab the book ( _or is the akuma in the pen?_ ) if only Chat Noir would hurry up and arrive to distract the wronged woman. She worried about wasting her lucky charm without her partner backing her up.

Meanwhile, Adrien watched in horror with a front row seat to the destruction as Copyright taunted him. He knew he should have never agreed to model for that book cover.

“You’re all looking a bit _spineless_ now, aren’t you?” Copyright laughed, mocking the publishing executives and Adrien trapped in an iron cage beside her. “Now you get to see a _real_ author at work!”

Adrien knew he should keep quiet. He needed to wait until Copyright was distracted and then escape so he could transform and help Ladybug! But, even so, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward as Copyright closed in on a cowering editor.

“The only spineless person here is the one who needs to summon a bunch of minions just so people hear her name!” Shoot. He’d done it now. Definitely not laying low.

Adrien’s mind worked frantically as Copyright rounded on him. “ **You?** You thought you were good enough to be Aelyr? The Aelyr I wrote was a hero! You’re nothing more than a pretty face. In fact, maybe it’s about time I send you somewhere that talent is appreciated. Let me show you what I can do!”

She could do more? These akuma victims just kept getting stronger. Adrien searched for Ladybug as Copyright hurriedly scribbled in her book. Maybe this was her chance. He shouted, “Ladybug-NOW!”

Ladybug looked up at the sound of Adrien’s voice. _What_ was he _doing_ trapped over there? She saw Copyright writing furiously. After climbing a nearby building to get away from the non-flying enemies, she shot out her yo-yo and-YES! She was able to hook the pen away from Copyright’s grasp. Who needs Chat anyways? With a big grin, she snapped the pen in two and…

Nothing happened.

Well, lots of things happened, but none of them good.

Some baddie – did it even matter who? – some baddie tackled her, pinning her to the wall. Copyright laughed at the attempt, grabbed another pen from one of the trapped publishers, and resumed writing, this time at an aggravating casual pace. Like she had no reason to fear Ladybug. And, most importantly, the book ( _of course it was in the book_ ) began pulling Adrien towards it. Although he grabbed at anything he could, he, and he alone, was being sucked towards the open pages. Copyright had one of her minions open the cage door so he could come through. The other trapped people were too afraid to go anywhere near the door, and chose to stay in captivity rather than risk being pulled away.

As Ladybug screamed, one of Adrien’s hands were being absorbed by the book. She finally looked at the person (thing?) pinning her, and quickly punched it in the nose, forcing it to stumble back. And, finally free, she began sprinting towards the quickly disappearing Adrien.

It turns out, it’s very easy to get through a crowd of enemies when you’re not worried about superhero things. As Adrien’s head was followed by his torso into the book, Ladybug didn’t care that she snapped a light post as she swung through the air. She wasn’t concerned with getting a good angle on Copyright to land a blow. She didn’t even think about the scared civilians who were taking pictures a bit too close and were about to be chased by an irritated troll. She only thought of saving Adrien. He was almost gone now, only a leg left to be taken in. With a shout, Ladybug reached for his ankle.

Adrien, on the other hand, was hyper-focused on superhero things. As the book began to pull him in, he made sure to never grab one of the other terrified captives, not wanting to accidentally pull them as well. He tried to back away, but kept his eyes on Copyright, looking for an opening-a chance to help even without transforming. However, as he started to close in on the book, the pull became stronger. Maybe he should transform? Everyone would know who he was, but at least he could Cataclysm the book as he approached. No-his lady would save him. There she was-breaking free from a troll and starting to come for him.

Too late, Adrien realized his hand had gone _into_ the book, along with his miraculous. His fear mounting, Adrien tried and tried to stop the progression, but more and more of his arm was disappearing. As his face grew closer and closer to the book, he debated what to do. Should he hold his breath? Did books have oxygen? He could feel his arm in front of him, but where was it going? How was he going to get out? _How was he going to get out??_

And then his head was gone. As before, he could feel the rest of his body outside of the book, although he couldn’t see anything. From this side, it felt less like getting pulled, and more like the book was expanding to contain him. He felt something hit his ankle as it came through, felt the touch of leather on his bare ankle, and then lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh! I saw a few requests on tumblr for a Princess Bride AU with Adrien as Buttercup and, while no one asked me specifically, as an avid fan of both works I thought maybe I could contribute. Be prepared for a few changes from the story, and this first chapter is a bit of set-up for the actual story, but after this it's all Princess Bride all the time. The rough outline is done, but we'll see if the chapter count changes as I write each piece.


	2. As You Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finds herself in a new world with new memories. Unknowingly, she begins the events of The Princess Bride.

_Itchy. Itchy and HOT._

Marinette looked around. Where was she? Besides standing on a farm in what was _definitely_ not Paris. And-these clothes! Instead of the light superhero skinsuit he had on just a second ago, she was now wearing a heavy dress, stained with wear and-yes, yes that’s flour and eggs. Marinette had spilled plenty of those things to recognize the stains. Had she travelled through time? A horse whinnied behind her, and she turned to see-could it be?

Adrien had always been handsome. Marinette, the stumbling, blushing fool, was painfully aware of exactly _how_ handsome he was. But now she saw that his beauty was completely timeless. Dressed in layers of black and green, he looked like he had stepped straight out of a renaissance painting. His hair windswept from his ride, and his smile bright as the sun as he climbed out of the saddle. He removed the saddle and then-oh god! And then he started walking towards Marinette! Outside of her costume and in a whole new place, the poor girl fell into the only thing familiar-tripping over herself in front of the most gorgeous person on the planet. As he passed, she realized he had spoken to her. She gaped, open-mouthed, at him. With a concerned look, Adrien held the saddle out to her. She took it.

“Make sure to brush him thoroughly. And polish that saddle-I want to see my face shining in it by morning!” With a laugh that rang like chimes, he walked away from her.

Was he joking? Or was that a command? What was happening? Not knowing how to respond, Marinette mumbled, “As you wish.” She turned-someone had to take care of the horse after all.

As she absentmindedly brushed the horse’s tangled mane, thinking of nothing in particular, she started. Where was Copyright? What was she doing here? All of her worries and memories flooded back at once like she had just woken from a dream. She continued brushing while trying to think. She remembered grabbing Adrien’s ankle. Was she pulled into the book as well? This must be where it sent them! Did Adrien still have his memories? She needed to find him and ask him. _After I finish polishing the saddle_ , she thought. But no, that was silly. She should find him NOW. As she tried to go, her body resisted. It was like her hands wanted to finish the chores Adrien had asked of her. With a focused effort on moving, she was able to pull away. _Concerning. Is Copyright controlling me?_ She concentrated on walking out of the stable, trying to find Adrien.

Before she could even walk towards the towering house she assumed was his ( _even here he gets a mansion_ ), her parents, also dressed in peasant’s clothes, rushed out of the small cabin near the stables.

“Marinette! What are you doing out here? We told you we needed your help tonight preparing dinner for the Count. Quickly-help your mother finish up with the vegetables. We’ve all got to clean up before serving.”

Caught up in the habit of working with Tom and Sabine in their small kitchen, Marinette found it more and more difficult to pull herself away. Somehow, she knew she would be seeing Adrien at dinner, so she focused on what she was going to say to get him away, and what they would do after. She had no privacy to transform, and it’s not as though Adrien knew she was Ladybug anyways. Actually, speaking of Ladybug, she hadn’t seen Tiki since she got here! She quickly confirmed she still had her earrings. _So where is that little bug?_ Alarm bells were ringing in her head, and she was grateful that dinner was almost finished. She needed to find Adrien _now_.

Of course, she should have known Adrien wouldn’t be alone. As she entered the Count’s hold behind her parents, she felt a chill in the air. Adrien sat rod-straight in his seat. At the other end of a long table, Gabriel Agreste was perusing a letter and irritably waving the Dupain-Cheng’s forward. “Quickly, quickly. We were expecting you at sunset.”

Tom spoke with a bow, “Our apologies, Count Agreste. We came as soon as we were able. We were not expecting you back from the castle so soon. We’ve prepared something extra special for you tonight-I hope that will make up for the slight delay.” Tom’s tone was jovial, but Marinette sensed a hint of fear behind his eyes, and she could still see the last rays of the sun shining through the window. They were right on time.

“Doubtful,” Gabriel muttered quietly. Tom and Sabine began bustling around, serving food onto dishes. By some unknown instinct, Marinette knew to remove empty plates and to otherwise stand quietly off to the side. Adrien and Gabriel ate in silence while the Dupain-Cheng’s scuttled around as quietly as possible. It would be near impossible for Marinette to speak with Adrien with his father there.

Near the end of the meal, Marinette was removing Adrien’s plate when he stopped her. “Actually, Marinette,” her heart skipped a beat hearing him say her name, “could you bring another serving of-“

He was cut off by a cough from his father. “That’s awfully familiar of you, Adrien. One should never address the servants so informally.” Adrien flinched slightly as if he had been struck.

“Of course, father.” Adrien lowered the hand he had raised to stop Marinette. Staring stoically forward, he continued, “I will have another serving of the bread.”

Her heart cold with anger, Marinette quietly answered, “As you wish.” She turned to get the bread, but Sabine had already rushed over with a slice and buttered it generously before backing away once more. Without looking up, Gabriel nodded once.

Gabriel left midway through dessert. Adrien followed shortly after, but paused by Marinette and gave her a smile. “Sorry about that. Please, thank your parents for the lovely meal.”

_Now’s your chance. Tell him we need to get out of here. Tell him he’s in danger. Anything_.

“As you wish.”

The words fell out of her mouth. She couldn’t say anything else, not that she knew what to say. Her lips were sealed and Adrien was gone by the time she was able to say, “Wait!”

Marinette spent the evening in her room ( _more like a closet with a bed_ , she thought angrily) furiously pacing. What was _wrong_ with her? What was wrong with _Adrien_? Did he know what was going on? And what was the deal with that “as you wish” thing anyways? Why could she talk to everyone except for Adrien?

But…that wasn’t quite true either. She was able to talk to her parents about the dinner and other things, but she had never once tried to talk about the fact that this wasn’t the real world. She had never even tried, but felt the pull in her soul that would keep her from speaking. That tightness in the chest.

As you wish. As you wish. As you wish.

The phrase was so familiar. Like a line from a story. Like some sappy slogan from a commercial. Like the kind of show her parents would watch together on rainy evenings.

As you wish. As you wish. As you wish.

The words rolled through her mind over and over. Somehow, she knew this was the key. If she could unlock the secret behind those words, she was **sure** she could get out of here. One thing she was certain of, she currently had no idea what to do right now. Her parents had already caught her trying to sneak out once tonight, and they were very suspicious of her now. She wasn’t getting anywhere with them nearby. And she had tried transforming, to no avail. The spark in her earrings wasn’t quite there. She needed to sleep, and try to look around for clues on how to escape tomorrow. At least she knew Adrien was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! We got into the world. We met some people. I hope it becomes obvious who’s who as we go on. Already have some changes to the story! Introducing Marinette’s parents, because we need someone around to propel Marinette into acting normal because, without them around, she would be freaking out 24/7. I mean, she also has some experience with crazy akumas, so she’s trying to take everything in stride, but it helps to have them around. I’m doing my best to keep the tone true to both Miraculous Ladybug and The Princess Bride, which is a bit of a balancing act. On the one hand, how could Marinette not freak out about this situation? On the other, we have to get the story moving somehow.
> 
> Also, sorry to anyone who wanted this to be a true AU. I mulled that over a lot before starting writing, but I couldn’t do it in a way that was true to the characters of both stories. With this Akuma involved in things, I can pull in characters from their real lives and have Marinette know who they are while still being forced to interact normally with their AU selves. Just opens some more doors for more complex characterizations. I hope everything is making sense so far!
> 
> I plan to update slightly less frequently, maybe once or twice a week, but I really wanted to release at least one chapter inside of The Princess Bride world. The next 2 chapters are already drafted and just need some updates, so I'm excited to share them as soon as they're ready!  
> Next chapter, we get a little realization and, finally, a #moment with Adrien and Marinette!


	3. Lumberly Actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has a revelation and finally gets to talk to Adrien...sort of.

_As you wish_.

Marinette woke in a sweat that had nothing to do with her fanless room. She knew those words from a film-The Princess…Bride! Yes, The Princess Bride! She had seen the movie years ago with her parents. But, she definitely didn’t remember any of these other details. Where were Buttercup and Westley? Where were the thrilling fights and happy ever afters? What was SHE doing here?

At least that one mystery was put to rest. Now she just had to figure out how to use this information to get herself and Adrien out of here. Or, were her parents trapped here too? Marinette had no idea who was real and who was simply created by Copyright. She hadn’t even considered that everyone else may have been pulled in – did anyone else have their memories? How was she going to save everyone? Marinette found herself wishing that Chat Noir had come through with her-at least then she wouldn’t be so alone. For the moment, her stomach demanded she leave the privacy of her room and get some breakfast. Her parents were already gone ( _to serve breakfast to the count_ , her secondary memories told her), but the embers of a fire shone under a pan of warm bread and eggs. After eating, Marinette decided to try and find her parents. Perhaps she could find Adrien again and pull him away!

Approaching the manor where the Agreste’s lived in relative luxury, Marinette instinctively walked through a small servant’s door on the side, navigating the outer hallways to who-knows-where. After yesterday, she understood that it was far easier to let herself be moved rather than force anything. She would need to reserve her resistance for speaking once she found Adrien. Along the way, she passed a few small rooms which may have been studies or guest rooms, but, she paused as she saw a large door held open. Looking inside, a small collection of bookshelves were filled with books and letters. A library? Could this be the help she needed? They were pulled _into_ a book after all-maybe another book could get them out! Content with having at least the barest hint of a plan, Marinette resolved to return once Adrien and the Count were away. She found her parents in a washroom and set to helping them clean dishes.

Afterwards, she was asked to gather some firewood for making the evening’s supper. Although she had never chopped a piece of wood in her life, Marinette didn’t see much point in arguing. She hefted the axe, and found it felt natural in her hands. In this world, apparently, she had been chopping wood for years. It felt good to stretch and use muscles she was only used to having while disguised as Ladybug, handling something so dangerous with ease. That is, of course, until Adrien came by.

Dashing as ever, today his green eyes were emphasized by his matching tunic. Marinette felt her mouth gaping and quickly righted herself, accidentally swinging her axe into the pile of wood she had carefully chopped all morning. With a squeal, she bent to right the scattered pieces, and saw a shadow fall over her. Adrien was kneeling in front of her, helping with the stack. She felt a familiar blush creep up her cheeks, and tried not to look at the face that was surely only inches away. When he spoke, so quietly, so softly, she swore she could feel his breath on her cheek.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said smoothly, his voice sending a shudder down her spine. He was sorry about…dinner? It was his father who should be sorry! But, Marinette knew that was inappropriate to say, and focused on not embarrassing herself further. Now was her chance to talk to him. They were alone, and she needed to speak past the force keeping her silent. He continued, “You know how fa – the Count can be. It was really a lovely meal. Your family spoils us!” She could hear the smile in his voice, and couldn’t resist looking up. There he was, in all his shining glory. The sun lighting up his air and his cheeks pulled back in a sweet grin. Staring at her.

Marinette nearly fainted.

For the first time, she was grateful to hear Gabriel’s voice as he called Adrien back to the manor. Adrien quickly stood, then hesitated, looking concerned.

“I’m sorry to ask this, but could you please water the horses? I was headed over there, but it looks like I have other business.” There was a new tightness in his voice and posture. He wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, but, after all, who would? While Gabriel Agreste was a fashion icon in Paris, here he was a fearsome, stern figure to everyone on his property including, it seemed, his own son.

Marinette didn’t even get a moment to consider his request before she heard her own voice breathily saying, “As you wish.” That uncontrollable impulse was gone as quick as it came, and by the time she got her bearings, Adrien had retreated into the manor once more. In a fit of frustration, she stomped her foot and yanked at her pigtails. Why was this so hard?! Red in the face, she heard a familiar giggle from her house, and turned to see her mother standing at the door, laughing at her daughter’s misfortune.

“Come in, dear. Lunch is ready.” Embarrassed, Marinette marched into the house, head down. While she sullenly ate a simple, but delicious, stew, Sabine took the moment to dispense some motherly advice. “Count Adrien is a sweet boy, isn’t he?” Marinette choked, and looked up to see her mother slowly stirring a hot beverage, not making eye contact. Marinette shrugged non-committedly. Her mother went on, “It is good to be kind, and he’s growing into quite a strapping young man. But you must remember, Mari, that he has certain…responsibilities. To Florin, and to his family. You can not –“ Sabine seemed to choose words carefully here, “He will likely be married off, and soon, to a lady of the court. We must not forget our position and give more of ourselves than we are willing to let go.”

What was that supposed to mean? It’s not like she and Adrien were-well, it’s not like they were dating! Adrien didn’t think of her _that_ way even in the real world! Marinette became unbearably nervous and needed some fresh air. She excused herself and rushed out the door towards the stable. She had, after all, agreed to water the horses. Unfortunately, it looked like she was a little late. As she stepped outside, she saw Adrien climbing into a carriage as Gabriel spoke with her father. They finished what looked to be a short conversation, Tom giving a nod and a bow before Gabriel, too, climbed into the carriage. As they turned onto the path, Adrien looked out and saw her, giving a small wave and a smile. Marinette grinned like a fool, stiffly waving back until he turned away. She heard her mother sigh behind her, but couldn’t concentrate on why. Now was her chance to look in the library!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *These fools. So, no worries. Marinette is still her goofy, clumsy self, and Adrien is still the sweet boy trying oh-so-hard to please his father. In this world, Marinette has always had a crush on Adrien (growing up on his estate and all) and it is painfully obvious to her mother, a woman who knows they can never be together and does not want to get Marinette’s heart broken. I’m hoping to get some scenes with Tom as well (because he and Mari are so darn cute together!) but we’ll see, as this is supposed to be an Adrinette fic. I really expected to be off the farm by now, but, in the interest of having chapters of a consistent length, I've decided to break it up as it feels natural.
> 
> Also also, I really debated how to include this wood-chopping scene, as it felt important to show Marinette as capable and strong even outside of Ladybug, but she also needed to be her same awkward, lovable self, so I’ve made her awkwardness even more directly tied to proximity with Adrien! Huzzah!
> 
> Next chapter, we will hopefully get some movement in the story. I have so many scenes that I can’t wait for, but it’s also so much fun getting these goofballs to fall in love. I can’t believe they did it so well with only one scene in the ACTUAL Princess Bride. I could have stared at young Cary Elwes and Robin Wright for hours. Since I don’t get to look at them, the least I can do is let you guys read about our favorite love square. 


	4. Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette makes a plan.

Asking her mother for some time to clear her head, Marinette walked around the manor to the rear entrance and walked in. For the first time, she noticed the loneliness of the manor, and realized that no one lived here except for the Agreste’s. She had vague memories of a blonde woman being here when Marinette was small but, then again, Marinette had never actually been here at all. These memories were fake-given to her when she entered this strange world. She strode confidently to the library, knowing no one was here. Based on the covers of the books, they all looked to be ledgers and tax records. She remembered that the Count managed a rather sizable area of…Florin? Is that where they were? Marinette didn’t remember it from her geography classes, but she had never been that good in those classes. As no particular book stood out to her, she grabbed a random one off the shelf, fully expecting the book to be full of numbers.

However, she was very surprised to find, on the first page, an answer to her problems. There, written across the page, she saw it.

 

**The Princess Bride**

 

As she flipped through, she realized it was a book, detailing the story of The Princess Bride. It was similar to the movie she remembered, but not exactly the same. As she flipped to the end, she noticed a change in font. The last section of the book was…a movie script? THE movie script! Here were all of the scenes she remembered. The love story. The fire swamp. Storming the castle! She saw the scenes play out in her mind as she scanned the pages.

So, that confirmed it then. She was in The Princess Bride. As she flipped back to the beginning to read more closely, she noticed something. Something she should have realized as soon as she made the connection. A gorgeous, oblivious blonde. A dark and dangerous Count. A farmhand who could only seem to say 3 simple words…

Marinette needed to sit down. She quickly found a reading chair and waited for her heart rate to drop back to a reasonable pace.

 

 

 

Was she…was Adrien…

 

 

 

She was Westley. It was her. Her was him. But how? What was that supposed to mean? It’s not like she and Adrien were-! She blushed furiously even thinking about it. She had no clue what to do about this information.

Then, reading through a third time, she noticed something strange. The words on the first page of the script weren’t the same black as the rest of the book. In fact, they were barely black at all, and almost seemed to be peeling a bit. She picked at the first word on the page, and found that the letter came off, almost like a string. She pulled, and the letters following seemed to unspool and just pull off the page, leaving blank paper behind. Confused, but excited at the prospect of finding something, she continued pulling. As she neared the bottom of the third page, the string became stuck. She tugged at the word, but it wouldn’t come off. Looking down, she saw the line after it stopped:

 

That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying, “As you wish,” what he meant was, “I love you.”

 

…

 

 

She had pulled off the scenes leading up to this point. The reasoning was obvious, but still difficult for her to grasp.

 

 

…

 

 

As she moved through the story, the words came off. She had to move forward to make the book disappear.

 

 

…

 

 

THIS WAS NONSENSE. What kind of foolish magic was this, anyways? All she needed to do was find Copyright, destroy the book, and then everything would go back to the way it was.

 

 

…

 

 

But, she needed her Miraculous to be able to turn everything back. What if destroying the book just trapped them here forever? As Marinette played with the string she had managed to pull, she noticed it was very familiar. Stronger than string had any right to be. Looped perfectly at the end for a finger to slip through.

 

 

…

 

 

It couldn’t be.

 

 

…

 

 

It _had_ to be.

 

 

…

With an experimental twist of her hand, Marinette held onto the string and twirled it like-her yo-yo? She could feel she was onto something. This book was giving her back her yo-yo as she went through the story. Maybe it would give her the other pieces of Ladybug as well? Maybe Tiki was in there! This idea felt right, and made as much sense as the logic of any other akuma. She resolved herself to get through the story-at least the opening-as quickly as possible. If her yo-yo came out, then she’d know she was on the right track. If not, she would spend every day hunting Copyright down. Seeing the sun set, Marinette quickly rearranged the other books so this one’s absence wouldn’t be noticeable, and rushed back to her room, hiding the stolen book behind her back as she skirted past her parents with excuses of a stomach-ache.

Once in her room, she read and re-read the story. There was one thing she couldn’t find a way around. The next step of the story was…for Adrien to fall in love with her. If she couldn’t do that as real-life Marinette, how was she supposed to do that here? Her mother’s words came ringing back in her ears, “We must not forget our position.” But, if the book was to be trusted, then he should fall in love with her regardless, right? That felt wrong to Marinette, somehow, and she resolved that she had to get him to love her, genuinely. She couldn’t manipulate him into doing it-that wasn’t right! Looking at the next scene, she saw that the last moment before they fell in love took place in a small kitchen-likely her parents’ house, as that’s where all of the cooking was done. As long as she didn’t meet him here, she could be sure that he wasn’t being forced to love her by the book. If she could just get him to fall in love with her somewhere, anywhere, else, then she could be as sure as possible (though not 100%, as the story clearly controlled them in many other ways), that he was choosing to fall in love with her.

Marinette slept fitfully that night. Dreaming of witches and fires and, briefly, imagining her death in the Pit of Despair. This was the first of many hard nights to come, although she hadn’t quite realized that yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So, we’re in the story. Marinette has a plan. Now all she has to do is act on it! I have so, so many ideas for the next few scenes, so I’m excited to see what makes it through the next drafts. I also realized there aren’t that many Westley/Buttercup scenes throughout the movie, so this section is definitely going to be longer than expected. The best part is watching people fall in love! Once we get off the farm, I expect we will move along fairly quickly. Bit of a shorter chapter, but the next 5 chapters are already drafted and just need some cleaning up before posting, so we are still pretty set for regular updates!
> 
> I threw in a bit of Marinette’s love conflict here. She doesn’t want this to be forced, so she’s going to do everything she can to make things as genuine as possible. It really seemed like the only compromise where she could continue moving through the story, knowing how it goes, and still keep her moral compass strong. She also really needed the hint that going through the story would give her some power back so, insert yo-yo! I loved the visual of her swinging a book around like a yo-yo, so we got it added in here.  
> Also, just wanted to say, for anyone missing Adrien, we will likely be changing perspectives throughout the story. Marinette will be our focus for the farm, but we will switch to Adrien once they are separated. It’s all planned out. No idea if they will get equal time, but let it be known that there will be some stuff from both sides. We may even get a scene or two from Copyright’s perspective!
> 
> Let me know how you guys are feeling about this one. This story is a bit light on descriptions and super deep feelings. While I LOVE those fics, I really wanted to keep the lighthearted spirit of The Princess Bride and Miraculous Ladybug. This is pretty much just for fun based off of a tumblr prompt, so I'm putting a lot of heart but not as much soul into it, if that makes sense.
> 
> Next chapter, we bring in another familiar character, and Marinette protects the farm…sort of.


	5. When the Day Met the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette get a moment alone.

Adrien didn’t return for 3 days. Marinette had no idea where he was, but her parents kept her busy taking care of the farm and cleaning. In the evenings, she was allowed to take one of the two remaining horses out to ride. They were older, and mainly used for tilling the farm, but it was a welcome break in her day. Every day, she considered how she would deal with Adrien, and every night she went to bed frustrated that she couldn’t come up with a solution. On the third day, she had led the horse to a stream with some tree cover providing shade. She brushed him gently as he drank. As she began to remount, she saw another rider fly over the hill nearby. They seemed…frantic. Like they were chasing something. Or maybe running away? Unable to resist the call of someone in trouble, she led her horse after the figure, following them into the sunset.

The person rode well, and cut a dramatic shape against the sun with a cloak that covered their face and chest. But, Marinette recognized this as one of the Agreste’s horses. Could this person be a thief? Should she confront them? Without her powers, Marinette was distinctly aware of how vulnerable she was out here, as dusk was turning to night. She needed some kind of advantage. She followed behind, but not too closely, hoping she could catch the person after they were done running. Her horse couldn’t keep up for long, but fortunately the thief didn’t go far. When they hitched their horse to a tree, Marinette dismounted and quietly walked over. The figure had walked a bit deeper into the woods, and she tried to quietly follow, patting the Agreste’s horse as she passed to keep him quiet.

There was a path in the woods. Slightly overgrown, like it wasn’t tended to or walked very frequently. A silence hung in the air. There was something private about this place. And something familiar. If she weren’t so on edge, her fake memories might have been able to tell her where she was. As it happened, she was hyper-focused on the path in front of her, trying to follow a trail that was disappearing into the night. Marinette was painfully aware of every leaf that crackled under her foot. The sound of wind in the leaves had her jumping. What was she thinking? Following a stranger into the woods?! She flinched as she heard a stick break under her foot. Freezing, she tried to channel all of Ladybug’s grace and athleticism. Not hearing any movement, she continued forward. As she turned a corner, the thief attacked.

In that moment, Marinette realized 3 things.

First, she had no weapons. What was she thinking? Following a thief when she was completely unarmed! She hoped her body retained at least some of her fighting skills.

 

Second, this person was strong. Stronger than she was. Although she hadn’t yet been harmed, the figure had their arm around her throat, pulling her close against them.

 

Third, this person was…Adrien? She recognized those hands, that breathing. She had spent far too long watching him to not notice his perfectly manicured nails, the giveaway black ring on his hand. She opened her mouth to speak, but he had already turned her around.

She wasn’t prepared to see him. Adrien was always composed. He was, well, perfect, in that way. Not a hair out of place. Now, he was disheveled. His riding cloak was wrinkled like it had been crumpled before he threw it on. His eyes were wild like a spooked horse. There were marks on his cheek from tears. Marinette tried to raise a hand to comfort him, but he held her tight by the shoulders. He was scared. Confused.

“Ma-Marinette?” He shook his head, not letting her go. “What-what are you doing here?” He seemed to realize his too-tight grip and let go, taking a couple steps back.

As her heart rate slowed, Marinette began to remember this area. A small wood with a little waterfall. Deeper inside here was…a grave. Countess Agreste’s grave. Adrien was coming to visit his mom, and Marinette had intruded. It was her turn to shake her head-how horrible could she be? Hunting him down like a criminal when he was just-she looked down apologetically and started to walk away. She had no words to apologize for her actions.

“No-wait!” He grabbed her arm, lightly, the wild look disappearing from his eyes, “Please, please stay. She would love to see you.”

Not knowing what else to say, Marinette quietly answered.

“As you wish.”

Adrien nodded and they walked silently to the grave, a simple stone under a large oak tree. They sat quietly.

 

 

Marinette didn’t know what to say. She had never known this woman in real life, and even her fake memories were extremely vague. She must have been gone for a long time. Adrien didn’t speak either, and they both seemed wrapped up in their own thoughts for a while. As the last rays of light disappeared, Adrien turned, startling Marinette.

“I suppose…we should go back now.” He had a trace of a smile. A peacefulness in his heart. But Marinette could see sadness as well. Worry. She hesitated, then put a hand on his shoulder. He brightened a bit. “Let’s walk the horses back-it’s too dangerous to ride in this light.”

They retrieved their horses and walked back, side-by-side. Marinette was grateful to be with him-while she could hardly see, he seemed to be able to see in the dark, leading them away from snake holes and tree stumps that might have tripped the horses or, more likely, her. As the lights of the manor came into view, he spoke again.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I must have looked a bit…crazy,” he gave a light, breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Despite knowing he was in pain, Marinette was still struck by how effortlessly beautiful he was. She cleared her mind and shook her head. _No, you’re not crazy_. He seemed to understand. “Sometimes, it’s nice just to be with her again. And now that I know I won’t be seeing her as much-“ he flinched. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said…” He glanced over to Marinette who stared at him, confused. “Ah, to hell with it. You would find out eventually. Father is trying to marry me off. Get me out of the house. He’s brought my ‘bride-to-be’ back to the manor to stay with us for a few days, hoping she finds me acceptable.” He got a determined look in his eye. “And, I must. I must be perfectly acceptable. She is the Princess, after all.”

Marinette’s heart dropped. Betrothed? This wasn’t part of the story, at least not yet! She was supposed to have more time! But, no, not yet. They weren’t betrothed yet. Maybe this Princess wouldn’t find him acceptable. Marinette almost laughed aloud at the thought of someone finding him lacking. Adrien continued as she fought against despair.

“I know it is my duty, but I had always hoped to marry for love. That’s silly, isn’t it? No one in my position gets to choose their bride. That’s the price we pay for our position.” The word stung Marinette’s heart, reminding her of Sabine’s words. “I was hoping mother,” he stuttered for a moment, a sad, lonely boy coming through for a brief moment. With a cough, he continued, “I was hoping she could help me make peace, but somehow I’m always more confused after seeing her. Father says she always had too much heart. Maybe I do too.” He said the last with a tone that implied disappointment, but his eyes showed hope. He wanted to be like her, but there was much of Gabriel in him too.

They walked in silence to the stables, returning the horses to their pens and giving them a brushing. Adrien walked Marinette to their little house. She got nervous, worried he would come in and progress the story, so she planted herself in front of the door. Adrien almost ran into her – almost. Instead, he gracefully stepped to the side rather than tumble into her. With a confused smile, he gave a slight bow. “I have returned my lady home,” he declared dramatically. Then, he stepped forward, grabbing her both her arms once more. Marinette gasped as she looked up to see his face so close to hers, his eyes staring deep into her own-what was happening? It couldn’t be moving already, could it? Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she prepared for the kiss. Steeling herself – _it isn’t real. It isn’t real. It’s just the story. It’s not real._ Even so, the thought of feeling his lips on hers, of running her hands through that perfect blonde hair, of being called _his_. It took her breath away.

Then, quietly, he said, “Thank you. For being there tonight. I’m not sure what I – well, anyways. I know I don’t deserve any favors, but, please, don’t tell anyone about tonight. No one knows about the courting, and, well, you’ve seen how my father can be. He wouldn’t want me visiting mother while we have such an esteemed guest…” His eyes grew worried as he trailed off, creasing in ways Marinette had not seen before. She never wanted to be the reason he looked like that. “Please, let’s keep that just between us, okay? Promise that this stays our secret?” The words sounded stern, but she saw the begging look in his eyes. She felt his breath on her cheeks.

“As you wish,” she said, with the small amount of breath left in her. If he didn’t leave soon, she would surely pass out from lack of air.

“Count Adrieeeeeenn,” a grating, high-pitched voice called, snapping them both to attention. Adrien gave an apologetic smile, kissed Marinette’s fingertips, and dashed away. Marinette seethed with fury. Of course. Of _course_ she was here. It took all of Marinette’s self-control not to slam the doors as she went to her room. Now, on top of everything else she was dealing with, she had to figure out how to get rid of **Princess** Chloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so…this scene was not in the original outline, but the characters kind of took over for a moment. While we won’t be digging too deep into any character’s baggage (this was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted story!), it is important to Adrien’s depth of character to touch on his mother’s absence. There will be a few more sad scenes scattered throughout, but they are mainly small detours away from our main plot.
> 
> And now, introducing to the story, Chloe! I’m sure some people saw this coming – after all, who could be as despicable to marry as Prince Humperdinck? In truth, I’m not much of a Chloe apologist, but I’m also not here to tear apart a mean teenager-those are rough times for everyone. She’s mainly someone who will get in the way of a few things and then disappear until she’s needed. At least, that’s the plan.
> 
> Also, in case you were wondering, the title is a reference to a Panic! song. This scene made me think of the lyrics to that song, and it's kinda sweet to match these two up to it.
> 
> Next chapter, Chloe gets to shine while Marinette tries avoid being trampled in her wake.


	6. The Princess and the Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette tries to avoid Chloe, and manages to sneak in some time with Adrien.

Marinette was awoken early the next morning, her father pounding on the door. “Marinette-get dressed. Quickly! We have a very important guest and we need your help serving breakfast.” Marinette popped up groggily, pulling her hair back in a practiced, familiar way and tying it off. Luckily, she didn’t have many clothes to choose from. Knowing that their guest was Chloe, she was ready to call in sick for the day, but that was rarely an option with family.

As Tom knocked once more, she called out, “Yes, Papa. I’m coming out.”

They arrived in the manor before the Agreste’s this time, but the entire manor was bustling. Three servants were responding to ever-changing commands being shouted from a room down the hall. Her parents quickly set up the dining area with the expertise of professionals. By the time footsteps were heard coming through the hall, the Dupain-Chengs were standing silently off to the sides of the table, preparing to serve.

Gabriel strode in, leading the way. Marinette marked that, by her fake memories, this was the first time he had ever sat at a meal without any letters or books occupying his attention. Adrien followed, with Chloe on his arm. Unlike the real Chloe, however, this girl was not pawing at him, begging for attention. She walked regally, and kept nothing more than a dainty hand on Adrien’s arm. Her face betrayed her, though. Looking upon the long wooden table in the center of the room, she sneered before wiping a single white glove on the nearest chair and inspecting it for dust. She found none, and Marinette was secretly proud that her family had thought to completely clean the manor while the Agreste’s were away. Even so, Chloe took the glove off and held it out with two fingers. A servant quickly ran up and replaced the ‘soiled’ glove with a new one. The message was clear. Adrien pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit, and then walked around the table to the seat opposite her. The Dupain-Chengs moved to action, serving dishes and filling glasses.

Marinette kept an eye on Adrien, seeing how he was responding to his potential bride. As ever, he was utterly charming. Keeping Chloe entertained under his father’s watchful eye. He only faltered once, when Chloe, in a fit, threw an egg to the floor, claiming there was a shell in it. His eyebrows furrowed, Adrien opened his mouth to question her, but a cough and stern glance from Gabriel silenced him. Sabine, red-faced, apologized profusely and brought out a new egg.

“It’s really nothing,” Chloe began. It had only been 20 minutes and Marinette was already tired of holding her tongue. “In the palace, there are never any mistakes. The food there is always perfect. Or else Daddy gets rid of the cook. You can’t expect the same from common servants.” Marinette could practically feel the steam coming out of her ears. Where did this girl get off? She started to step outside, but Chloe called to her, “Excuse me. Aren’t you going to clean this up?” She motioned towards the egg she had thrown to the ground. Sabine was rushing up with a towel to clean the mess, but Chloe motioned her away. “Not you. _Her_. I could never marry a man who didn’t have all of his servants in hand, and this one looks quite…disobedient.”

Marinette’s face was on fire. She didn’t dare even look at Adrien as she walked to Chloe’s side, grabbing the towel from her mother as she passed. Chloe asked Adrien to tell some story about a tournament he had competed in while Marinette mopped up the mess by her feet. She jumped when something landed on her head and slid to the ground. A fork? She picked it up, and Chloe had leaned down to her level. “I’ve seen you staring at him, girl. Remember your position, or your entire family will be living in the woods at sundown.” Retrieving her fork, Chloe shot back up, laughing lightly at something in Adrien’s story. Marinette quickly finished cleaning and stood to the side, staring straight ahead for the rest of the meal and trying to calm her heart rate.

She spent the rest of the day as far from the manor as possible. Feeding the horses, fetching water, boiling vegetables. Anything she could do to stay away. She knew she needed to be around Adrien, but, really it could wait until that girl was gone. She managed to get out of supper duties by feigning a stomachache (she was sure her parents knew the real source of her sickness, but they let her get away with it). Afterwards, she decided to tend to the gardens behind the manor.

It was a nice time of day to be outside. It was cooling down as the sun began to set. Birds were calling as wind blew through the trees. She heard Chloe on the other side of the manor, talking about going on a tour of the Count’s holdings. No doubt Adrien would be right there, touching her arm and charmingly guiding the spoiled girl through his lands. Marinette huffed and yanked a weed out of the ground just as something fell behind her, scattering her pile of dead plants and dirt all over. She indignantly started to say, “Hey! You-“ And then she was pushed up against the wall, a hand over her mouth and a body pressed against hers.

“SHHHH!” He quietly implored. Adrien. Of course it was Adrien. He must have climbed out of his window-but why? Mouth still covered, Marinette looked up into his eyes. They looked…like trouble. Like he had just done something bad for the very first time, and _liked_ it. She became distinctly aware of his chest pressed against hers. His lips inches away. He looked down at her, made eye contact. And then saw how he had pinned her to the wall and hastily took a step back. His hand, however, remained. Marinette took in a breath. Apparently, she had stopped breathing when his chest hit hers. It was a lot for her to handle. “Please,” he asked again, “Please be quiet. They can’t know I’m out here.”

Marinette felt the now-familiar phrase work its way up her throat. _As you wish_. But she promptly stopped it. She was tired of not controlling her own words. She nodded. Adrien seemed to accept this, and removed his hand. She missed its warmth but had to admit this was much less awkward, although he was still standing much too close. She was pulled from the moment as she heard the carriage roll away. Adrien sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “Good. They’re gone.” And suddenly his beaming grin was back. “I told them I wasn’t feeling well. The Princess isn’t the greatest compan-“ He seemed to realize he was toeing the line of treason, and closed his mouth. “Well, I suppose I just needed some time to myself.”

Marinette nodded in understanding, and turned to leave him. She still couldn’t speak to him, so there was no point in forcing her presence on him when he wanted to be alone.

“Wait!” he grabbed her hand, “Wait, sorry. You don’t have to go. I didn’t mean…Listen, do you want to see something? A secret?” His eyes shone with mischief. What secrets could this boy possibly have? Marinette smiled and let him pull her with him. He didn’t let go of her hand, even when it was clear she was following. It wasn’t romantic, but it was lovely. The heat of his hand warmed her all the way to her chest.

It was funny, in a way. The fact that she couldn’t speak made her far less embarrassed to be around him. It was still horribly difficult to keep her cool, but at least she knew she wouldn’t say anything foolish.

They walked to the edge of a small grove of trees. Adrien held a finger to his lips, asking for silence, and walked around the side of a large elm. There was a hole in the stump, going back a couple feet or so. As Adrien approached, Marinette heard shuffling inside. And then, the tiniest little “mew.”

He beckoned her over. There, inside the stump, were two small kittens, nestled up against their mother. The mom seemed nervous, but allowed Adrien to reach in and grab a baby. He handed one to Marinette-a white cat speckled with uneven black dots. And he took the other for himself, an all-black kitten that blended into the darkness of his vest. Marinette’s heart swelled as she held the little creature. It clamped onto her dress, trying to climb, mewling in time with Adrien’s. He beamed at her.

It was truly unfair. It was so _easy_ to fall in love with Adrien. What could she possibly offer in return? She had no status, no beautiful secrets, not even any powers. She was just…Marinette. Adrien interrupted her pity-session, “They’ve been here for about two months. The mom was up in this tree trying to hide away from some predator when I rode up and scared it off. I try to come by as often as I can to check on them but I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here…” Marinette heard the tinge of sadness in his voice, and placed her hand on his, offering what she hoped was a supportive smile. He flipped his hand over, holding her hand once again. He was doing that a lot, lately. His eyes met hers, searching for something.

“You know, you haven’t spoken to me since father returned from the castle.” Marinette’s eyes widened. She didn’t realized he’d noticed. For some reason, she assumed that was always all she had ever said. But, as she quickly searched her fake memories, she found memory after memory of them-playing as children, learning to ride horses together, sitting to have quiet conversations. Even so, Marinette knew she could not speak any other words-felt the pull for them at this very moment, even. For now, they were all she had, and she had to make them count. Knowing her history with Adrien, now, she kissed the black and white kitten on its head and gently set it back against its mother, who mewed quietly and set about cleaning the baby. She gave Adrien her own mischievous grin, and he seemed surprised. Then, she leapt up, and took off into the trees, daring him to chase her like when they were kids. He quickly set aside his kitten, gave the mom an affectionate ruffle, and took off after her, following the sounds of her laughter.

For the first time, Marinette felt a bit like Ladybug again-running free through the woods. If only she could swing up into a tree, then it would be a real chase. She heard Adrien closing in behind her, and swerved around a tree to throw him off. But, as she made the turn, she stopped short at the sight of another person in the woods with them.

 

 

Copyright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whew! We are moving along a bit now. Some feelings. Some meaningful glances. Seems like the right time to throw a wrench in the system. Copyright was originally supposed to return a bit later, but she wanted to come back right here so, what can I do? I never really understood what authors meant when they said the characters do what they want, but I’m starting to get it. Also, now I can confirm that we will be off the farm in Chapter 10! There is so much more story to go and I'm so excited to share my ideas with you guys!
> 
> Everything here is pretty self-explanatory. Chloe is a pain, but, like anyone with eyes, she can see Marinette moon-eyeing Adrien and tried to Shut. That. Down.
> 
> I also wanted to show that Adrien and Marinette were friends, even in this world. It wouldn’t really work (and felt a little slimy) for Adrien to fall in love with a basically Mute Marinette. So, they get a quick flashback showing that, yeah, they used to talk and hang out and the as-you-wish thing is basically a temporary curse. And what could possibly cure a curse?
> 
> Next chapter, we get a little more exposition from Copyright and hopefully another Adrinette scene. I’ve gotta get as many of those in as possible so we can move forward!


	7. And who, may I ask, are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette tries to confront Copyright.

_Run!_

Marinette’s heart pounded loudly in her chest. She couldn’t tell if it was fear of facing Copyright without her powers, or excitement at the opportunity to grab the book. Either way, she needed to act quickly.

 

 

 

And yet.

 

 

 

 

Marinette felt the pull once more. Her feet were planted in the soft soil, and pushing through the heavy weight would be a slow and ineffective move. Copyright had yet to do anything aggressive-in fact, she looked surprised to see the two of them there.

The author was standing, book in hand and pen poised as though she had just finished writing. She tilted her head, black curls of hair bouncing gently off her shoulders. Marinette could see this was a lovely woman under her ridiculous akuma outfit, which consisted mainly of an armor made of book covers and an unfortunate yellow/blue color scheme. The designer in Marinette raged at whatever cosmic force created the akuma costumes.

Marinette tensed as the author approached, talking to herself as though Marinette couldn’t hear.

“Interesting. I don’t recall bringing you in.” Copyright absentmindedly tapped her pen on her chin, thinking. Every step brought her, and the book that surely contained the akuma, closer. Marinette strained against the force pinning her, but her body had turned to lead. It took all of her effort just to turn her head slightly, catching a glimpse of Adrien’s blonde hair in her peripheral vision. Copyright seemed intrigued by this small movement, “Oh? What’s this now? You’ve got a bit of fight in you, haven’t you?” She let out a delighted giggle. “Who ever could you be?” She started, as though she just saw something fascinating, and moved behind Marinette. With Copyright’s eyes off of her, Marinette felt some strength return to her, and she was able to turn slightly to follow Copyright’s movements.

The disgruntled author was now cooing delightedly over Adrien’s frozen frame, caught mid-stride with a grin on his face as he chased Marinette through the woods. Copyright looked into his joyful eyes, and followed their gaze to the statue of Marinette.

“Ah! So _you’re_ my Westley! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She inspected Marinette once more, “Yes, you’ll do nicely.” She scribbled something into her book, and Marinette tensed in fear.

Copyright finished writing, and looked at Marinette expectedly. Marinette knew she was right to fear the writing when, completely unbidden, she spoke, “My name is Marinette.” The words tumbled out of her, much like all of the ‘As you wishes.’ It became clear to Marinette that the book was law-she was not only beholden to The Princess Bride story; she also had to answer to all of Copyright’s whims.

Another delighted laugh escaped Copyright’s lips. The woman seemed truly beside herself to have Marinette’s name. She spoke quickly, like someone who couldn’t contain themselves, “Yes! Marinette! Mari for short, it’s absolutely _perfect_. And such a beautiful girl, and look! He’s already besotted. Where are we in the story, where are we?” Copyright glanced through her book and started flipping pages, getting nearly to the beginning before exclaiming, “Ah! Yes, here we are. Oh my, almost time for the kiss! But no, not yet, not yet. It must be perfect. How do I get you back to the house? _That’s_ where it’s supposed to happen.” She looked up and surveyed the scene in front of her. Adrien chasing Marinette through the woods, two friends running freely. She smiled, a plan clearly coming to mind. “Yes, yes this will be perfect.” Everyone stood silently for a moment as she jotted something into the book. When finished, she took a couple steps back, adjusted her direction slightly, and clapped, “And, action!”

Marinette’s body returned, in a way. It was still a bit out of her control, but now she was moving. Running, again, through the forest. Adrien chased behind her, as though they had never paused in the middle of their game. Marinette didn’t feel a pull in any specific direction, so she quickly rounded a tree and tried to go back to the clearing where Copyright (and the book) was. When she turned, so did Adrien, only without his usual grace. The leaves under the tree slid out from under him, and he fell noisily to the ground. Marinette stopped, debated for just a moment about going after Copyright, and then turned to help him.

It was odd to be on the other side of a clumsy fall. Marinette reached her arm out, helping Adrien stand as he chuckled, “I guess that means you win. I didn’t even see that – AGH!” He let out a squeal of pain as he finally stood. He had trouble putting weight on his right ankle. Marinette stopped immediately, not wanting to hurt him. He took a few deep breaths, and then turned that gorgeous smile on her again, “I don’t suppose you would be willing to help this clumsy oaf back to the house? I seem to have hurt my ankle here.”

Marinette leaned down to take a look, and he allowed her to investigate, leaning on a tree for support. She gently took his ankle and, while he had a sharp intake of breath, he seemed otherwise okay. A bruise was forming on the outside of his ankle, but the bones looked fine. Likely just a sprain, but still something that would be painful for him to walk on.

“So, doctor, will I survive?” Adrien joked. Marinette rolled her eyes and smiled, letting his ankle go and standing. “Let’s head home before I sustain any more life-threatening injuries, yeah?”

She took his arm over her shoulder, slowly hobbling along with him.

“As you wish.”

It took significantly longer to get home than it took to get to the woods for a variety of reasons. Adrien’s ankle slowed them both down, and, in the quickly disappearing light, Marinette was very careful not to stumble or drop Adrien. With each step, her frustration with leaving Copyright behind grew. But, Adrien’s safety was more important. She also couldn’t really complain about being able to hold him close, without the armored Ladybug suit on. She tried to be as chaste as possible, but Adrien made it very difficult as his hair swept her shoulder. Every so often, his grip would tighten on her shoulder, pulling her closer as he leaned on her for support. It was a very nice distraction from trying to fight a supervillain. When they finally made it back to the estate, Marinette was winded from both the exercise and his proximity.

She nearly forgot about Copyright for a moment, until she noticed them both hobbling towards her house instead of the estate, the place she had been avoiding like the plague. This _definitely_ counted as manipulating him into loving her. She tried to drag her feet, but could not altogether stop walking. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw Copyright’s eyes fixed on the spellbound couple. The woman was practically bouncing with excitement. She clearly had plans to progress the story right now.

Frantically examining her surroundings, Marinette searched for anything that would possibly help her. Ideally something that didn’t require much effort, as she found it harder and harder to resist the now familiar pull of the akuma’s power. The stable was too far. Her parents were likely cleaning up and wouldn’t be looking for her until well after sunset. Of course, the one time Marinette needed Chloe around to be bothersome, the princess was gallivanting around the countryside.

_There!_ An idea came into Marinette’s mind. Something that was not in the least bit out of character-for her at least. She finally stopped dragging her feet, allowing herself to carry Adrien forward at a more normal pace. She focused her energy on one last resistance. With everything she had, she swung her foot out just a bit-directly into the pile of wood she had carefully stacked that morning. While this act alone sent a jolt of pain up her leg, the real goal was to make a ruckus. With Marinette in pain, her and Adrien both fell forward, and she cried out as she landed. Adrien bravely held his tongue as he landed on his hurt ankle, but Marinette’s cry did the trick. Her parents came rushing out, and she heard a heavy sigh of frustration. In the corner of her eye, she could say Copyright slam the book closed. This was obviously not what she had planned.

But then, her eyes lit up bright as she saw Adrien, hurt ankle and all, crouch down and offer Marinette his hand. He smiled gently as her parents started tutting over their clumsy daughter. Marinette took the hand and stood, quickly stepping back to distance herself from the handsome boy.

“Marinette, what are you – Lord Agreste! Apologies, sir. We did not see you there. Is – is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

Adrien’s grin dropped as he realized he would have to explain what happened. He had feigned a stomachache to get away from Chloe, and now his family servants were likely going to have to tell his father he was found running around in the woods.

Marinette’s mother looked quite solemn, and shook her head gently at Marinette, who blushed before speaking before Adrien, “No-no. I hurt myself in the gardens under Ad – under Lord Agreste’s window. He heard me and came down to help, despite not feeling well himself. We fell over the wood in the dark, and he must have just hurt himself.” Adrien looked at her, amazed. Her mother looked suspicious, but no longer disapproving. And her father quickly took control of the situation.

“Sabine, please, grab the medicine and bandages. We must make sure there are no lasting injuries. Lord Agreste, if you’ll pardon me,” and with that, Tom lifted Adrien like a sack of flour and began carrying him back to the manor. “Marinette, rest and tend to your injuries. It looks like you may have caught the axe when you fell.” Marinette looked down and noticed a small stream of blood running down her forearm. Not knowing how good the medicine in this world was, she quickly followed Sabine into the house to clean and bandage the cut, happy to be away from Adrien. As she looked out the window, however, she saw Copyright pacing back and forth, tapping the pen on her chin in an aggravated manner. She realized the author would likely be nearby for a while, and went to bed quite exhausted from trying to figure out how to escape the woman’s manipulations without being discovered as a rebel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…here’s Copyright. Bit of a major/minor character, who will come in and out as she likes. For now, she’s here to bother Marinette.
> 
> I hope it was clear but, in case it wasn’t, Copyright doesn’t know who Marinette is (because she sucked in Ladybug, not some random baker’s daughter!) But, she quickly comes to the same conclusion as Marinette herself, and realizes this is Westley, the main love interest from The Princess Bride. Since Copyright also wants to see the story progress, she doesn’t question this new person too much. But she is a bit…overzealous in trying to get the two together. Like all of us, she’s ready to get to the exciting bits of the story!
> 
> Drafts are completed through chapter 11! I'm trying to stay around 5 chapters ahead of postings, that way the updates don't randomly dry up if I disappear for a week. Generally trying to post updates on Tuesdays and Fridays, because I can't wait a week between posting haha. If you've given feedback on the story, you might not see it implemented until later since so much is already drafted, but I promise I'm listening keenly to everything you all have to say!
> 
> Next chapter, you don't want to miss. Seriously it's my favorite one so far. That's all I'm gonna say.


	8. King of My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette find their ways back to the woods.

It was quite horrible having Copyright hovering around for the next few days. She couldn’t even be near Adrien without the author writing them into a soap opera. She did her best to stay out of sight while Copyright made Adrien and Chloe go on a disaster-ridden ride through the woods. Both horses came back with loose shoes, and Chloe’s arm was covered in a mysterious rash that she insisted was a sunburn. Copyright seemed almost as happy tormenting the unhappy couple as she did dramatically uniting Adrien and Marinette. The day after their first encounter, the author forced Marinette to fall into the river. Of course, Adrien couldn’t help but rescue the flailing girl, diving in valiantly before she travelled too far downstream. It took all of Marinette’s willpower to keep herself from touching him, his model’s body perfectly outlined by the wet tunic plastered to his chest. When Copyright saw nothing exciting was going to happen organically, she wrote Chloe into the scene. This change in pace involved lots of tutting and touching of Adrien by Chloe, and ended with Marinette being bumped over into a puddle of mud.

While not ideal, having Chloe around did at least keep Copyright from writing in the kiss that Marinette dreaded. It was funny, in a way, that now Marinette should be grateful to the likes of Chloe for keeping her and Adrien apart. Maybe she would find the energy to laugh at that when they were back in Paris.

As it was, she was growing quickly tired of her medieval day-to-day. She missed Alya. She missed being able to talk to her parents. She missed only holding herself back from Adrien out of embarrassment rather than a fear of manipulating him. This was a fine adventure, but she had already been here for over a week and made so little progress! And she had no clue how to get rid of Copyright when the woman seemed so delighted to torture Marinette.

As Chloe’s visit drew to an end (seven whole days already- Marinette was surprised she lasted this long without strangling the girl), something…changed. Adrien and Chloe went for more private walks. When he wasn’t with the Princess, Gabriel was speaking to him in the study. On the 8th night, Marinette was walking outside when she saw Adrien drop out of the window again. This was the first time they had seen each other truly alone since Copyright showed up the week prior. Marinette knew she had to take advantage of the freedom, and gave the boy a beaming smile. She beckoned him, and ran to the big elm tree in the woods.

The kittens were much more brave now. Marinette had been visiting them almost every evening – Copyright seemed to make herself scarce around that time, and Marinette was able to walk with a little more freedom. As she bent to give Tiki a kiss (so she named the spotted kitten after her favorite little bug. Who could blame her?), she heard Adrien approach and handed him the black kitten. He seemed relieved to be in the shade of the woods. Drawing tiny purrs out of the small creature in her arms, Marinette raised a questioning eyebrow to Adrien. He gave a tired laugh.

“I guess I should have known you would catch me. I was never much good at breaking the rules.” He gave a disappointed shrug and looked out with tired eyes. Marinette recalled the last time they were out like this-the mischievous glint in his eyes. His excitement as he pulled her towards this very spot. There was a streak in him Marinette had never seen in Paris-a rebelliousness. A spirit that wanted to roam the nights if it could only break free. Actually, even in Paris, Ladybug was constantly rescuing Adrien from peril. He was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Always nearby when an akuma reared its ugly head. As if he alone could stand up to the threat. He would have made an excellent superhero, she was sure of it.

Thinking of Paris, Marinette’s heart ached for Chat Noir. Did he know where she was? Was he searching for her, hunting through Paris? Had any time passed there at all? Marinette knew she would never stop looking if he disappeared. That’s what partners did, right? She hoped he was safe, and not trapped in one of Copyright’s stolen stories. The silly cat would definitely get caught up in some exciting tale of passion and intrigue. Marinette briefly wondered if he, too, would lose his miraculous if he came through the book. Could he be here, now, wearing a face she had never seen? Before she could think on it too heavily, however, she was drawn out of her reverie by Adrien’s heavy sigh.

She placed Tiki in her lap, using one hand to continue petting the fluffball and placing the other on Adrien’s knee. He looked up, startled, and gave a halfhearted chuckle. He gently covered her hand with his, and the warmth travelled all the way up to her ears.

“You know, I honestly can’t tell if you’re mad at me. With all that’s been going on, I haven’t even been able to ask. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me ever since the Princess arrived.”

Marinette flinched. She didn’t know how to tell him she wasn’t upset-that she could never be upset with him. He definitely didn’t deserve to be hurting based on anything she’d done.

“We’re getting married, you know.” Marinette looked up from where his hand encompassed hers, startled. “That’s what we’ve-no. That’s what _they’ve_ decided.” For the first time, Marinette heard him speak with a hint of anger. But, there, just beneath the bluster, was something sad, and alone. His voice choked for a moment as he continued, “They’re sending me away. Father wants me trained to be a prince so that I am a suitable groom for the princess.” He looked down, and Marinette couldn’t tell where this emotional journey was going to go. She let her other hand fall atop his, allowing Tiki to follow Adrien’s black kitten back into the tree. The contact seemed to calm him, and he flipped his hand over to hold her fingertips in his. He ran his thumb along her palm, sending electricity shooting up her arm.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the fading light filter through leaves. They would have to return soon.

“It’s funny. After everything we’ve been through, I always thought you and I would-“ He stopped himself, but the implication was clear. “You were the only person who ever stood up to me. Never afraid to knock me into the mud or win the horse race. The only one who ever treated me like someone besides the spoiled son of a count.” He was working himself up again, eyes watering and hand tightening around Marinette’s, like he was falling and only she could save him in this moment. “You’ve never been afraid. Hell, even Chloe is afraid of you, and you’ve never even spoken to her!”

“I wish I could stand up to them like you do. I wish I were half as brave as you were when you chased me down last week. I wish I were strong enough to _do_ something about all of this!”

He looked at Marinette, fervor burning in his eyes, and she felt something heavy in her stomach. He glanced down, where he held her hand in an urgent grasp, and seemed suddenly unsure. He loosened his grip-less forceful, less insistent. He looked at her- _all_ of her. Breathing slowly, he traced her face, lingering on her collarbone, her lips, her eyes. Marinette felt her heart skip a beat and was afraid to breathe, afraid to interrupt whatever energy was coursing through them. He continued, muttering more quietly, more gently.

“Please, please teach me to be brave.”

His eyes glowed in the setting sun. He glanced at her, pleading for something. Their faces were inches apart, and Marinette had never felt closer to another person in her life. She wanted to be brave too-wasn’t that why she agreed to be a superhero in the first place? But, without Ladybug, she had always been too scared, too timid. There was always some excuse as to why she never took what she wanted. But this boy-he was asking _her_ to show bravery? Asking _her_ to help _him_?

Marinette had always been good at putting others’ needs above her own.

Staring into his eyes, with moonlight on her shoulders, Marinette lost control in a completely new and unfamiliar way. She forgot her fears and leaned forward. Her heart blinded her, assuring her that Adrien, at least this version of him, loved her. That this is what he was asking for. That the reason he followed her and opened up to her and _god he was leaning in too_ was that he wanted this just as badly as she did.

Marinette didn’t know what she expected to feel when their lips finally connected. Fireworks? No, nothing like that. It felt more like swinging through the streets of Paris. Like exhilarating freedom. She breathed him in and felt like a fool for waiting so long to get this close to him. Adrien raised a hand to cup her face, tilting her head just so to get a better angle. Like he had been waiting to do this for years and wanted it to be perfect. Marinette, for her part, finally had her hands on his chest, and used his sturdy frame to keep herself grounded. When they pulled apart for a breath he stared, amazed, down into her eyes. She smiled and, with butterflies in her heart, whispered,

“As you wish.”


	9. So You Want to be a Hero Kid?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien finally fight back against Copyright.

There was…a lot happening. First, Adrien realized he has kissing Marinette and that was-wow. That was fantastic. He let instinct take over, tilting her head for better access to the sweetness on her lips. It was strange-he had never really thought about what it would be like to kiss her, and now he found he couldn’t imagine living in a world where he _didn’t_ kiss her at every possible moment. He reveled in the feeling of her soft cheek in his hand, of her hands gripping his chest. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, and every nerve in his body stood at full attention.

But, the moment couldn’t last. Adrien was quickly working out what exactly was happening. He remembered being pulled into Copyright’s book-so stupid of him, stepping up to face the akumatized woman without first transforming into Chat Noir. Ladybug would have a lot to say about that if she ever found out he had done something so foolish.

Ladybug!

Where did she end up? Adrien searched through his rapidly returning memories and tried to remember what had happened to her. Unfortunately, the last he saw was her charging on Copyright as he descended into the dark pages. Surely she didn’t get pulled in as well? She would have come to rescue him by now. Adrien hoped against hope that he had not truly been trapped here for a week, living as his Count Agreste alter ego with apparently no control over his own actions. He would have laughed at Chloe’s ‘princess’ role if he weren’t so completely bewildered. With his heart still pounding from the kiss, Adrien took a moment to look at Marinette-his friend and his…something more? He felt his heart pick up when he looked into her blue eyes, and wanted nothing more than to meet her lips again.

But, now was _certainly_ not the time for that. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find Ladybug! He remembered Copyright calling Marinette “Westley,” and using her book to make him answer to her commands, but he had no idea to what purpose. And it seemed like no one else was aware of being controlled. That, or they were all acting like their memories were lost? He couldn’t be sure without asking, so he took a step back, catching his breath before speaking, “Um, thanks, Marinette, for uh…” Adrien quickly realized he didn’t know what the protocol was after 1) having your first kiss inside of some odd fantasy land and 2) abruptly regaining your memories and realizing you need to defeat the villain who trapped you there. Only, he needed to find somewhere private to transform and he didn’t even know where the akuma was and what if Copyright just took control of him again and…

Adrien closed his eyes and tried to regroup, feeling Marinette’s warm cheek beneath his palm and using it to ground himself. “A-Adrien?” he heard the girl say quietly. He looked up, and she was staring, surprised, at her own hands. She looked like a weight had just lifted off her shoulders. Before Adrien could think on why, she sprinted back towards the manor.

He called after her, but she only slowed down for a moment to yell back at him, “Oh-sorry! Need to run home for a minute. Great kiss, by the way! I mean…uh, well, we can talk about it later?” She was breathless from running, and he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as she seemed to awkwardly pause. He saw her face turn a familiar shade of pink as well, and gave her a small wave. It was probably better for them to separate anyways. He needed to face Copyright alone to make sure no one else was hurt. He followed behind her, heading instead to the manor when she split to her parents’ home. If he could find a place to transform, he could call Ladybug. Even if she wasn’t here, at least he would be strong enough to fight her.

 

He opened the door, intending to transform as soon as it closed, but was immediately sidetracked when he ran into a bundle of fabric.

“Oof. Excuse _me_ , but who- oh. Count Adrien. Is-is everything alright?” When taken by surprise, Chloe’s expression softened, and she seemed genuinely concerned. Adrien was glad that she hadn’t let the princess routine go _entirely_ to her head, though he had yet to forgive his childhood friend for being such a royal pain for the past week.

“Chloe-that is, Princess Chloe,” he hastily corrected, “So sorry! I would love to escort you out but, um…I’m really not feeling well so, if you’ll excuse me.” Adrien began to step around Chloe, but his blood ran cold as he heard another voice further down the hall.

“I thought to find you in your room, boy. You were quite sick when you excused yourself from dinner.” Gabriel strode up to the awkward teenagers, laying a hand on Adrien’s shoulder.

“Y-yes, father,” Adrien struggled to come up with some excuse, “I thought some fresh air might help.”

“It appears so. Your health looks markedly improved.” Adrien knew he wasn’t going to be able to play the sick card to get away again. If only he could get somewhere alone... “Perhaps you could escort the Princess the pond and recuperate some more outside. More fresh air may continue to improve your... _condition_.” Adrien knew he was stuck. His flimsy excuse for leaving his room only helped Gabriel’s case that he should go with Chloe. He resigned himself to take her out and transform later that night. It had already been almost two weeks that he’d been here-a few more hours couldn’t hurt. He gave a formal bow to his father and offered his arm to Chloe, who giddily took it. She had her sneering mask back on, and Adrien only hoped she would drop the act once they were alone.

He escorted her to the pond, where a small chorus of chirps silenced when they drew near and then resumed when they passed. The stars here were much more pronounced than in Paris, and he saw each one’s reflection in the small pool of water. A cool wind blew through the trees, and Chloe stepped a bit closer to Adrien’s warmth. In the middle of this romantic setting, Adrien found himself wishing he had a different girl on his arm. He led them to a bench where Chloe sat primly for a moment. Then, she seemed to think better of it and not-so-subtly scooted a few inches closer to Adrien, touching his leg with her own.

“You know,” she began, “I have seen many other counts and royalty before you.” Adrien kept quiet, not sure where she was going. She chuckled darkly, “An endless sea of suitors, if you will. They all want to show off how well they ride and how big their holdings are, as if I have any need for their paltry amounts of land. But, not you." She peered thoughtfully at him, "You were always talking about your people. Always mentioning how this road your father paved was central to commerce and how your family had eliminated the legality of duels to the death-so much concern over such nonsense.” She gave a haughty laugh, but then seemed to calm and laid her head on Adrien’s shoulder. “But, for all that, they are the happiest people in the kingdom. It’s… _nice_ , that you care so much. I think you will make an excellent king for the people, and for me.” Chloe turned to look into Adrien’s eyes, and he became suddenly terrified to have her so close. She clearly wanted something he wasn’t able to give, and he looked up gratefully as a horrified shriek rang out from the manor.

Marinette came sprinting in his direction, but stopped short when she saw Adrien sitting with Chloe. She was holding two books in her arms-one that looked like one of his father’s tax ledgers, and another that was all wrapped up in some kind of string. Then, he saw her.

Copyright was running out of the house, hair flying wildly as she screamed at Marinette to stop. Marinette seemed to be trying to pull the string off of the entwined book, but seemed to be having trouble holding onto both tomes.

“Over here!” Adrien dashed out of Chloe’s clutches. Marinette seemed to hesitate for a moment before throwing the ledger to him. He caught it perfectly, but the weight of the book shifted as soon as it hit his hands. He fumbled for a moment, and something cylindrical fell from between its pages. Confused, he steadied the book and reached for the item as Copyright continued advancing on Marinette. Picking up the dropped item, it extended dramatically, hitting the ground with a dull **thud** and shining silver in the moonlight. His…staff?

 

 

Well, Chat Noir’s staff.

 

 

 

Wait.

 

 

 

Adrien had no clue what was happening, and suddenly became _very_ aware that he was holding Chat Noir’s staff but inconveniently not wearing Chat Noir’s outfit. With an experimental twirl, he realized he still felt just as comfortable wielding the odd weapon. Without thinking, he shoved the ledger into Chloe’s arms and charged at Copyright, intent on stopping her from hurting Marinette. He extended his staff, propelling himself forward to land right behind Copyright. A slight pain in his knees told him he still lacked Chat Noir’s affinity for superhero landings. With a quick twirl, he knocked the pen out of the surprised author’s hands. She turned on him, furious, as Marinette pried at the string surrounding her book-the same book he remembered Copyright writing in when she controlled him before. It had to be the akumatized object! He swung at the author’s legs, barely missing as the woman backed away. He yelled to Marinette, “Destroy it!” She had the book in her hands, but seemed frozen at the sound of his voice. As he pushed Copyright away with aggressive swings of his staff, he glanced over where she bent over the book.

But Marinette wasn’t looking at the powerful object. Her hand was frozen with a page in her fingers. She was staring, mouth open, at Adrien. She seemed stunned at the sight of him, and he became once again aware of the fact that he was conspicuously himself, and not the crime-fighting superhero Paris had come to love. Did Marinette suspect him? He was caught off guard with worry, and Copyright took advantage of his distraction to grab his slowed staff.

“ _Enough_!” She snarled, before yanking it from Adrien’s grasp. She knocked him aside, and reached for the book in Marinette’s hands, snagging it from the girl with a resounding **_shhhhhhhhk_** as the page she was holding ripped away. Marinette looked down at the page in her hands, looking confused and defeated. For his part, Adrien felt a wave of frustration wash over him. Shouldn’t that have destroyed the akuma? They had definitely stopped the possession by only breaking a piece of the objects before. He had no idea how to defeat her now, no plan to save the day.

Copyright hastily scribbled something in her book, and Adrien felt his muscles freeze up. He tried to fight his body’s imprisonment, but could only manage to turn his head slightly to better see the author at work.

“ _There_. No more meddling-from either of you!” She took a moment to readjust her outfit but did nothing to pat down her curls, which had risen wildly around her head in all of the action. Even so, she was clearly in control of the situation. She glared down at Marinette, who also appeared to be frozen, stuck in a horribly awkward pose as she seemed to have been in the middle of standing up. The ripped page was nowhere to be seen.

“I _should_ send you both to the pit,” she muttered angrily. Adrien had no idea what the “pit” was, but he found himself hoping he was not sent there. “But, then we would never get to the end of the story, and I was _so_ enjoying myself.” She tapped her pen thoughtfully on her chin, having stuffed Adrien’s staff in a pocket that seemed to appear magically on her hip. She looked over at Adrien, and smiled as a plan clearly formed in her mind, “Yes-oh yes that will be just perfect!” With another flourish of her pen, Marinette’s parents came marching over with a small table and chair. She sat down graciously, waving the apparently unconcerned adults away. She began humming a tune as she slowly began writing on the pages. Adrien fought against his frozen state, but couldn’t regain control of himself. After what felt like ages but was surely only a few minutes, Copyright stood with a satisfied smile. She turned on Adrien, looking at him fondly.

“My perfect trapped prince. I think we will keep you in your current role. Do not fear-in a moment all of these pesky thoughts of rebellion will be gone again. And we will find you a _new_ Westley. Hopefully a more _compliant_ one,” with a pointed glare, she turned on Marinette. “And _you_. Nasty little instigator-I think the best place for you might be…the bottom of a lake?” Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, clearly afraid. “Say hello to the shrieking eels for me, won’t you darling?” Copyright laughed and stepped away from the horrified teenagers. “Go ahead-take a moment to say goodbye. This is where your story ends.”

Adrien felt his body return to him and, acting on instinct, ran to Marinette. “Marinette-are you okay? I’m so sorry. I meant to keep her away and you-“ Marinette raised a hand to his lips, shushing him.

Quietly, she said, “Hold on. I might have an idea.” Copyright watched them from a short distance away, delighting in their terror and holding the book safely out of reach. “I just need…” Marinette seemed lost in thought, trying to solve some puzzle. She glanced at her hand, resting on Adrien’s outstretched arm, and seemed to find the solution. “Okay, in a moment, I need you to pull me close. I think-I think I can keep us both safe, but I don’t know how much time we have.” She looked up at him with worried eyes, and then looked to Copyright. Subtly, she angled herself so that Adrien’s body blocked her from the author’s view. Then, she raised a finger to her lips, pause for a fraction of a second, and bit the tip, hard.

Adrien quickly grabbed her arm, pulling it away and seeing blood on the tip of her hand. She was smiling in a way that terrified him-like she was about to face a demon head on even though she had no chance of winning. Copyright began to approach them, and, with her other hand, Marinette pulled Adrien’s face close to hers. “I don’t know when or how, but I _will_ find you. Don’t worry, I think I’ve found a way to keep us both safe. I will always come for you.” And then, completely surprising him, she tilted her head up to meet his lips with her own. He dropped her hand and brought both of his hands up to cup her face. Copyright had truly frightened him when she threatened to feed Marinette to the eels, and, right this second, he took comfort in the somehow familiar feeling of holding her. He heard something crinkling, and felt Marinette pushing something against his chest, but all he could focus on was the desperate way she connected herself to him. She was not soft and supple like when they had first kissed. No, she was determined, and seemed intent on imprinting the pattern of his lips onto hers. He tasted a hint of iron from her bloodied finger, and choked back a frustrated sob. He felt a tear rush down his face and onto hers and then-

She was gone. Just, completely vanished. He had a brief, terrified moment of realization before she also disappeared from his memories, leaving him with nothing but a fake past and the echoes of Copyright’s laugh.

One week later, Count Agreste left the manor to begin training to be a prince in the castle. Princess Chloe was overjoyed that he had been chosen to marry her, and prattled the entire way about how, if he were a good student, he could finish his princely studies in just four years and they could be married as soon as the court approved of him. Adrien, numb, thought sadly on the farm girl, his first and only love, who had been killed just days prior by thieves who had stolen her away. He and his father had hunted them down, but too late. She had already been dumped into the lake, and no one saw any sign of her exiting the cold, dark waters. He followed his father’s instructions, treating Chloe with respect and following her to the castle, but he knew, in his heart, that he would never love again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no author’s notes on the last chapter. I just felt so great about how it ended and didn’t want to spoil the moment with my rambling. I should probably take the same approach here, but I’ve always loved reading author’s notes, so why would I deprive you all of that? A lot happened in this chapter, and I expect chapters will be closer to this length than they were in the beginning. I would like to start doing one scene per chapter, but we will see how that goes. Let’s talk about some stuff, shall we?  
> Chloe: I’ve always loved fics that keep Chloe’s nastiness but show just a hint of kindness beneath it, so we get to see how she liked Adrien for his kindness. There has to be some reason they are real friends in the show, so I wanted to make it clear that she does still have a soft spot for him and is willing to let that part of herself show.  
> Adrien’s POV: I hope it was clear, but Adrien got his memories back for a brief moment and tried to do everything he could to help but, alas, Copyright has re-cursed him. At the end, he back to being an unwilling Buttercup.  
> Also, as with all good Adrinette stories, it gets to be a reveal fic! Marinette starts having some suspicions when she sees Adrien fighting with Chat Noir’s staff, and that is why she sort of stops functioning in the middle of the fight.  
> Marinette’s disappearance: If you are wondering what happened to Marinette and if she’s okay, I implore you to watch the film The Princess Bride. A guest commented that it may be helpful to explain the movie as we go for those who are unfamiliar, and I would like to do that where I can, but it’s a bit difficult to do without turning into a legitimate play-by-play. For the minute, if you’re unfamiliar: Westley, the male lead of the film and played by Marinette in this story, is ‘killed by pirates’ about 5 minutes into the film. He does not actually die, and eventually returns to the story. I wanted to throw that out there because I know I didn’t tag this story with “Major Character Death,” so I didn’t want anyone to be confused.  
> I fully expected only The Princess Bride fans to read this, so I’m still trying to adjust to the fact that there may be some new people experiencing this story for the first time. Which, if you are-dude. There’s no way I can do justice to the perfection of the original-read the book and/or watch the movie because they are seriously some of the funniest, loveliest works in the world. This is just a fun reiteration that caught my attention when someone suggested it on tumblr.  
> The Princess Bride is my favorite film and I would never want to be someone’s first exposure to it. It’s like 90 minutes but unfortunately no longer on Netflix.  
> Next chapter, we get to move to scene two!!! Adrien gets engaged! I’m so excited to get to share more of my ideas with you wonderful folks.


	10. Father Knows Best/Anybody Want a Peanut?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Adrien is kidnapped by some familiar faces.

Copyright was absolutely giddy with excitement. Ever since she had pulled the residents of Paris into this book, Hawkmoth’s nagging voice had disappeared from her ears, and she was free to explore all of her favorite stories. It had only taken a couple days to realize she could write herself into the story. As she donned the guise of Vizzini, she worried, briefly, about her limitations. While it was a blessing to have Hawkmoth gone and the compulsive desire for Miraculous’ along with him, it seemed his disappearance limited her magic. In the real world, her book simply added more pages as she used them. Now, she realized she was stuck with a limited number for her workspace, and she had filled nearly a quarter of the book writing out the mess that nasty girl had made-where had she even come from, anyways?

Additionally, it seemed _she_ was trapped here just as surely as her prisoners. She had tried writing herself back into Paris (after all, how else was she going to find a new Westley?) with no luck. She wasn’t too concerned at the moment-really, she had only been here a couple of hours. Her magic allowed her to move forward in the story at her leisure, and she only liked to slow down for the good parts. She didn’t care to watch Adrien be trained into a prince, so she jumped straight to the wedding announcement. It was a handy skill, but unfortunately she couldn’t skip moments from the actual film without writing in her book, something she was growing more and more hesitant to do.

But, she could worry about that once this story was done. She was having such a wonderful time, and the story kept surprising her as the characters varied slightly from their roles according to their personalities. She could have cheered when Adrien decided to fight back against his kidnapping, but she was determined to stay in character. It was like seeing the story new again.

At this moment, it was finally time for her to take an active role. She pulled a scrap of fabric from her pocket, and began attaching it to Adrien’s horse.

Nino approached, as Copyright knew he would, “Hey boss-what are you ripping there?” The fencer stood tall behind her, but had a light heart that she admired.

“It’s fabric from the uniform of an army officer of Gilder.” She began tearing up the fabric adorning the horse, falsely creating signs of a struggle.

“Who’s Gilder?” Alya asked. Though not nearly as simple as the Fezzik in the story, Alya’s character had still been raised away from the world. Due to her intimidating size, she had been raised as a fighter and was frequently pushed away from civilized society. Her curiosity helped her catch up to the events of the world, but she still had much to learn before anyone stopped thinking of her as a mindless brute. Copyright rejoiced that every change to the story only seemed to enrich it further. She calmed herself before answering.

“Gilder is the country across the sea, the sworn enemy of Florin!” She smacked the back of the horse, urging it back home, “Go!”

She motioned for Alya to pick up the unconscious Adrien, and the trio walked around the corner where their boat was hidden by grove of trees. Copyright continued, “Once the horse reaches the castle, the fabric will make the princess suspect the Gilderians have abducted her love. When she finds his body dead on the Gilder frontier, her suspicions will be totally confirmed.”

Alya objected, offended, “You never said anything about killing anyone!”

In truth, Copyright had no interest in killing anyone. She still shuddered thinking about what she had done to Marinette in her fit of anger, even though the girl stood against all of Copyright’s plans. But, her current character _did_ want to kill Adrien, and so she continued, “I’ve hired you to help me start a war. It’s a prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition.” She began to settle into her seat, leaning against the bow of the boat as Nino and Alya prepped to sail.

Alya quietly mumbled, “I just don’t think it’s right. Killing an innocent boy…” Nino slapped the woman’s shoulder, but it was too late.

Working herself into a rage, Copyright pointedly attacked Alya, “Am I going mad, or did the word _THINK_ escape your lips? You were not hired for your brains, you HIPPOPOTAMIC LANDMASS.”

“I agree with Alya,” Nino sternly stood up for the woman, laying a hand on her arm to stop her from charging Copyright head on. This did nothing to calm the author’s anger. In a fit, she turned on the lithe fencer.

“OH! The SOT has spoken! What happens to him,” she pointed angrily at the unconscious Adrien, “is none of _your_ concern. I will kill him, and remember this, _never forget this_ : When I found you, you were so out of your mind, you couldn’t find work in a _latrine_.” She redirected her ire towards Alya once more. “And YOU! Friendless, brainless, helpless, _hopeless_. Do you want me to send you back to where you were, unemployed, in _GREENLAND?_ ”

Copyright knew this was just a part she was playing, but it still took her some time to calm down after her tirade. She was grateful when Alya and Nino regained their powers of speech and moved to the other end of the boat. It was a welcome distraction from the nastiness of the villain she had to play. Really, she was the good guy here, reuniting lost lovers in an epic tale! They were all lucky to be involved in the story at all.

Alya and Nino, chastised down to their boots, were silently steering the boat away from the shore when Nino tried to break the tension. Leaning in and whispering quietly to Alya, he said, “That Vizzini, she can _fuss_.”

Alya seemed confused for a moment, “Fuss?” Then realization lit up in her eyes. Smiling, she nodded. “Fuss…I think she likes to scream _at us_.” She beamed, proud of the rhyme. It was a fun game the two liked to play whenever they were waiting on Vizzini, the person whose role Copyright had taken over.

Nino laughed quietly, glad she had caught on. He glanced over at their boss, busily tying up the new prisoner, and said, almost nonchalantly, “Probably she means no _harm_.”

Alya scoffed and rolled her eyes, not even deigning to look in Vizzini’s direction, “She’s really very short on _charm_.” She knotted a rope tightly, emphasizing the last word with a grunt.

Nino laughed, louder and bolder now. He did a quick dancer’s twirl, light on his feet and clearly enjoying himself, “You have a great gift for rhyme!”

Alya rolled her eyes again, this time with a hint of amusement, “Yes, yes. Some of the time.” She verbally and physically shrugged off Nino’s compliment, though she was clearly pleased.

As Nino erupted into laughter once more, Vizzini shouted out, “Enough of that!”

He saluted the commanding woman, then climbed a short ways up the mast. Holding his hand over his eyes and leaning away from the mast, he called down, “Alya, are there rocks ahead?”

Without missing a beat, she responded, “If there are, we’ll all be dead!” Nino almost lost his grip as a series of giggles overcame him.

Vizzini yelled again, “No more rhymes now, I mean it!”

Alya looked at Nino. Nino looked at Alya. Both sets of eyes were alight with mischief. With a quick cough, Alya pulled something from her pocket, holding it out to her boss. “Anybody want a peanut?”

Alya and Nino both burst into tearful laughing as Vizzini shouted her frustration into the wind.

The trio sailed onward, as yet unaware of the small ship sailing far behind them, following their bright white sail.

 

 

 

As the sun set, Nino used the mast to elevate himself high enough to see along the horizon. Copyright –or, rather, _Vizzini_ , she hastily corrected herself- grew frustrated with him incessantly staring back towards Florin. “We’ll reach the cliffs by dawn. Why are you doing that?” She shouted against the wind.

Nino climbed down, wearily. Glancing backward and looking worried, he answered, “Are you sure nobody is following us?”

Contorting her amused grin into Vizzini’s obnoxious smirk, Copyright gleefully delivered her line, “That would be _inconceivable_.”

Adrien, who had woken only shortly before sunset, found the bravery to speak out, “No matter what you think, you will be caught. And when you are, my father will see you all hanged.” He clearly looked uncomfortable and uncertain about the threat, but his voice was full of whatever bluster he could produce.

Copyright stared the boy down, daring him to speak further, then dismissed the threat easily, “Of all the necks on this boat, Highness, the one you should be worried about is your own.” During this conversation, Nino had pulled Alya to the back of the boat, where the two were quietly speaking and animatedly pointing at something in the distance. “Stop doing that! We can all relax. It’s almost over.”

Again, Nino chose to question his esteemed leader, “You’re _completely_ sure nobody is following us?”

With a smug grin, Copyright lounged against the back of the boat, closing her eyes and pointing her face to the sky-the very picture of relaxation. “As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No on in Gilder knows what we’ve done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.” She paused, then considered her companions once more, taking in their worried glances. “Out of curiosity, why do you ask?”

Nino glanced briefly at Alya, and then looked down at his feet, clearly worried about questioning Vizzini again. “Uh, no reason. I just happened to look behind us and something was there.”

Copyright rushed to the back of the ship, peering through the darkness and trying to catch a glimpse of the ship she knew must be there. With nothing but the stars lighting her vision, it took her a moment to find the dark sail closing in on them. But-yes! _There_! Copyright was delighted to see that some other captured Parisian had stepped in to take Westley’s place. She had half worried she had ruined the entire story with her meddling. Remembering she was supposed to comment, she cleared her throat and spoke up, trying to placate her concerned boatmates, “Probably just some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise…at night…through, eel-infested waters.”

As she closed her meandering sentence, the trio turned around quickly at the sound of a huge ***splash***. Adrien had jumped overboard in an attempt to escape, clearly not hearing or not concerned about the dangers Copyright had only begun to list. She cried at her less-than-ambitious henchmen. “Wha-wh-Go in! Get after him!”

Nino was quick to answer, “I don’t swim.”

Copyright turned her attention to Alya, who almost smugly replied, “I only dog paddle.”

As she mimicked the action of paddling through the water, Copyright growled in frustration, and then began shouting out directions. “Veer left! Left! LEFT!” She repeated as the boat turned too slowly for her liking. Adrien was frantically swimming away, but paused as an ear-piercing shriek echoed over the water. He turned, frightened. Waves of water circled around him, indicating something large and terrifying below the dark surface of the sea. Copyright tried to appeal to the prince’s sense of survival, “Do you know what that sound is, highness? Those are the shrieking eels. If you don’t believe me, just wait! They always grow louder when they’re about to feed on _human flesh_.” Copyright dropped her voice ominously, and the eels shrieked again as if to emphasize her point, louder and closer than before. The water grew choppier as something huge and dark and terrifying began to emerge behind Adrien. “If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you’ll get such an offer from the eels.” With that, a large, menacing head breached the water, showing more teeth than flesh. Adrien spun around to face the horrifying monster, knowing he had no way to fight it. It turned its great maw towards the floundering prince, and began to charge for him, clearing aiming to swallow the young man whole.

 

 

 

Copyright was never a fan of horror stories. She preferred to read about true love and dashing adventures. As such, the scene before her had always been one of her few dalliances into any kind of fear. She froze everyone with a quick swipe of her pen, reveling in the moment of pure anticipation before Adrien was attacked. Now she could examine the entire scene. She saw Adrien, drenched and terrified, his golden hair sitting on the top of the water and staring certain death in the eyes. He looked truly hopeless. She glanced at her two useless henchmen-Nino and Alya were both stretched over the side of the boat, worry etched clearly into their brows. In this moment, it was clear they were no cold-blooded killers, much as they might tout their considerable strengths. Right here, they were just desperate to save the boy frozen in the water.

Copyright, of course, knew that Adrien wasn’t going to die here. She had seen the movie, after all. Yes, Adrien would go on to find his true love and brave even worse perils before the story was done. She decided that, when you know the ending turns out okay, perhaps fear can be an effective storytelling device. She would have to incorporate it into her next book! But, as it was, she had finished investigating and was ready to continue. She jotted a few notes in her book and prepared for the finished scene.

 

The shrieking eel let out its fiercest cry yet, sending waves out as it ferociously charged at Adrien. He opened his mouth to yell, to scream, as it closed in. He could practically see down the monster’s gullet as he saw the teeth begin to collapse on him and then-

Copyright watched Alya beat the monster on its head, disorienting it as she then pulled Adrien from the water.

“Put him down, just put him down.” Copyright commanded, grabbing a blanket and rushing over to the boy. She wrapped him up and began rubbing the shivering boy to try and warm him back up.

Nino, who had returned to reorient the mast, called out, “I think they're getting closer!”

Copyright responded, frustrated, “They're no concern of ours! Sail on!” She turned back to the freezing prince, who still stared her down with eyes of fire, “I supposed you think you’re brave, don’t you?”

With all of his high-born disdain, Adrien calmly replied, “Only compared to some.”

It was a tense silence as the night wore on. Copyright knew that Nino and Alya were concerned about killing an innocent man, and they tried to distract themselves by focusing on the boat behind them. Adrien glared at the trio until his shivering died down, at which point his adrenaline ran out and he fell into a deep, exhausted slumber. No one else slept.

Eventually, the dark began to recede as the sun started its slow crawl above the horizon. A heavy blanket of fog sat on the top of the water, and they sailed towards a mountain who’s rocky exterior almost blended into the greys of early morning. The world was still and silent, but a threat sat near their southern side, as they were able to glean the tip of a mast closing in on them.

Nino, spotting the danger, spoke out once more, “Look! They're right on top of us!” Seeing Alya glance up at him and clearly trying to make the most of her attention, he joked, “I wonder if they are using the same wind we are using.” He winked at the now-blushing buff woman who was trying not to laugh in the face of mounting tensions.

Copyright exclaimed in joy, “Ha! Whoever they are, they’re too late. See? The **Cliffs of Insanity**!” At her words, the fog cleared inside of a small stream entering the rock-face. There, dangling dangerously, was a thick rope. The rock face rose sharply above them, looking like it brushed the clouds. The small beach was littered with the bones of those foolish enough to attempt the climb-human and animal alike. Were Copyright not completely certain they would survive it, she would never have entertained the thought of scaling that wall even _with_ the proper equipment. As it was, all they had was the heavy rope hanging down, and a harness that clipped onto it. She started rushing everyone off the boat as the sailor gained on them. “Hurry up! Move the thing-and the other thing! Move it!”

As the trailing boat slowed to try and fit into the tight entrance, Alya tied the harness around her waist. There were three strips of leather hanging off the front and both sides of the odd equipment. Nino easily stepped into one, pulling the straps tight and strapping himself directly to Alya’s side. Copyright strapped Adrien in-the poor boy still stared up at the cliff face, at least as terrified as Copyright herself of making the deadly climb. Finally, with a deep breath to calm her nerves, she strapped into the front of the harness. To distract herself, she rambled some rationalizations for why this was a good plan. “We’re safe,” she started, muttering to no one in particular. “Only Alya is strong enough to go up our way. They’ll have to sail around for hours until they find a harbor.” She stopped speaking as she felt herself rise. In staggering movements, Alya began to go up the rope. Hand over hand, her considerable muscles bulged as she hauled the four of them up the cliff face. She tried to climb using hands and feet when she could find purchase, but throughout the climb there were many moments where she pulled them up with simply the strength of her arms. It was an incredible feat of strength.

As they neared what Copyright knew to be the halfway mark, Nino looked down and, with a hint of amazement, announced, “They’re climbing the rope.” He paused, watching their progress, “And they’re gaining on us.”

Copyright dismissed him offhandedly, “Inconceivable.” But, following the fencer’s gaze, she saw a red dot near the bottom of the rope, slowly but determinedly closing the distance. She slapped Alya’s chest, “FASTER!”

Barely sounding winded, Alya continued climbing as she sullenly replied, “I thought I _was_ going ‘faster.’” Though she did pick up the pace, it wasn’t enough to put any distance between them and the impressive red sailor.

Copyright was only too happy to voice Vizzini’s frustrations, “You were supposed to be this colossus; You were this great, legendary thing, and yet they _GAIN_!”

Never one to take a punch lying down, Alya retorted, “Well, _I’m_ carrying three people, and they've got only themselves.” Still, though, she climbed even faster, huffing out a breath with every new foothold.

“I do not accept excuses!” Copyright indignantly replied, “I’m just going to have to find myself a new giant, that’s all.”

The statement had the exact effect Copyright knew it would. Alya, raised in isolation and afraid of being left alone again, responded in a defeated tone, “Don’t say that Vizzini, please?”

With an evil grin, the author landed a final blow, “Have I not made it _clear_ that your JOB IS AT STAKE!”

Conversation was cut short as Alya climbed faster still, breath heaving in and out of her as they bounced with her climbing. While the person below no longer gained on them, they still had not increased the distance much. In the last stretch of the climb, Alya roared at she cleared the top of the cliff, doing her best not to crush Vizzini as she pulled herself onto the flat ground. Hearts racing, everyone climbed out of the harness, happy to be away from the Cliffside. Alya glanced back down the side, still unafraid of the journey even though she was clearly winded. “They’ve got very good arms,” she called out, as Vizzini tied Adrien’s hands together and pulled some fabric into a makeshift gag. As soon as the prince was bound, Copyright rushed over to cut the rope, trying to stop the sailor from following any further. In just a few hectic seconds of sawing with her small dagger, the rope finally snapped, rushing over the edge of the cliff. At the sound of Alya’s gasp, she rushed over to the edge of the cliff.

“They didn’t fall? Inconceivable!” The red dot was almost unidentifiable as a person, but there they were. Hanging precariously on the side of the rockface itself, no longer holding onto the rope that gave constant purchase for climbing. They were entirely reliant on their own strength now.

Nino joined them at the edge, “You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.” Indeed, Copyright knew that her character had a propensity towards calling many situations ‘inconceivable,’ but there was not much to be done for it. Nino continued, “My god-they’re climbing!” As they stared in amazement, the red figure began moving, first a bit to the side, and then up. Again, a bit off to the other side, and up once more. They were finding handholds along the cliff side and slowly but surely advancing.

Copyright was more than happy to continue, “Whoever they are, they have obviously seen us with the prince and must therefore die. You-“ he motioned towards Alya, “Carry him.” Alya wordlessly picked up Adrien, who had just begun to try and struggle out of his bonds. Turning towards Nino, she continued, “We’ll head straight for the Gilder frontier. Catch up when they’re dead. If they fall, fine. If not, the sword.”

She was already halfway up the hilly path when Nino called out, “I’m going to duel them left-handed!”

She turned back, “You _know_ what a hurry we’re in!”

Nino seemed ready for this resistance. “It is the only way I can be satisfied. If I use my right,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “it’s over too quickly.”

“Oh, have it your way,” Copyright relented.

Alya gave Nino a friendly pat on the shoulder as she turned to follow Vizzini, Adrien hoisted over her shoulder, “Be careful. People in masks can’t be trusted.”

Nino nodded as Copyright shouted back, “I’m waiting!”

As his companions walked onward, Nino took a few experimental swings of his sword, first with his right hand, and then with his left. Careful to stand back from the edge, he looked down towards his opponent and saw the sword hanging from their waist.

Good. It had been too long since he’d fought in a real duel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we get to see some stuff from Copyright’s POV! We will stay with her for a couple more chapters before switching back to someone we are more familiar with.
> 
> If you’re unfamiliar with Vizzini, again I recommend watching the movie. In case you haven’t seen it, he basically leads Inigo and Fezzik (played by Nino and Alya respectively) in an attempt to capture Adrien. He’s one of the main villains of the early part of the story, and Copyright has decided to play him in this world. When she is playing Vizzini, that is how other characters will refer to her. None of them know her real name, or even her guise of Copyright.
> 
> We also got a little more information on Copyright’s particular situation. We learn that time isn’t actually going as quickly as it seems, though years still passed for everyone else in the story. Copyright is unconcerned with that, however. She is only just beginning to worry about how to escape the book, now that she notices she isn’t as powerful as she once was.
> 
> In the end, she really is just a woman who wanted to live out this story. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone, especially now that Hawkmoth isn’t in her ear. But, she does still have akuma-brain and isn’t exactly herself, so she is still obsessed with the story. To the best of her ability, she does not want to alter the original trajectory of the tale.
> 
> Sorry about the late update-got a bit sick while I was out. Not sure if you can tell, but this was originally two chapters. Because so little happens, I decided to combine them, making this one a bit long. The above were my notes from the first chapter, and below are the notes from the second. I write the author’s notes as soon as I finish that way you get my thoughts while they’re fresh. Since I’m drafting about 5 chapters ahead, I don’t want to forget things or accidentally give something away by waiting to write the notes until I . Sorry if that’s a bit confusing but, hey, it’s free content-most of you can deal with a little rambling :)
> 
> *So, the last couple chapters have been very similar to the movie, but I have tried to add the unique twists that each character would bring to their part. Plus, unlike the movie, you get a brief look into how the characters are feeling and some of their thoughts. The story will regain more of it’s unique-ness (10 chapters on the farm ring a bell?) once our heroes are reunited. Right now, I’m just showing my love for the different parts of the story.
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts on Alya and Nino. Because of the trajectory of the story, I wanted to put them in these roles. But I know, particularly for Alya, they may seem a teensy bit OOC right now. Mixing characters is always difficult, but I tried to preserve Alya’s sass alongside Fezzik’s kindness.
> 
> The next three scenes are some of the most fun in the story, so I’m looking forward to writing them in this new lens. Depending on the length, we may end up with two scenes in one chapter, but I tend to ramble on so I’m not sure how it will turn out.
> 
> Definitively next chapter, we get to recap one of the greatest fight scenes in cinematic history, and we find some information on the 6-fingered man. I hope you all continue to enjoy the direction this all goes!


	11. Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nino faces his foe in the second greatest dueling scene in history.

Nino never enjoyed being on his own. That was part of the reason he ended up with Vizzini. He had spent the past few years wandering from tavern to seedy tavern, playing music for food and a bed, and often finding no one was willing to offer either. When Vizzini had shown up, a beautiful muscled woman behind him, Nino had jumped at the chance to be part of a group. While the small woman had her bouts of irritability, Nino knew she was relatively harmless, with dreams larger than her means.

Well, he used to think she was harmless.

He had been pulled along in what he thought might be a quick ransoming scheme, and had quickly learned that he was actually involved in an elaborate plot for murder. Though he had been a dedicated fencer for the last decade, Nino had never killed. Threatened? Of course. Maimed? Without question. But murder? Taking another person’s life in cold blood? That was beyond his comfort level. And so, he was torn on his most recent assignment. On the one hand, had he continued with Vizzini, he would be taking part in the murder of Prince Adrien. On the other hand, he was only waiting around here to kill the fool currently climbing up the mountain. At least this way, he could deal with the sailor on his own terms. Perhaps he could even get away with knocking them out and leaving them tied up. Or maybe they would still fall. It had to be exhausting climbing the upper half of the cliff face, and it would only take one wrong move for them to tumble to their doom.

He found his mind running in circles, debating the moral dilemma he had fallen into, and wished instead he could be swinging his sword, dancing through the moves that now came like instinct to him. He walked to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the progress of his foe.

 

 

They hadn’t moved much.

 

 

He danced around the terrain, investigating the best spots for fighting, where he could take advantage. He walked back to the edge.

 

 

They had moved some, but still had a ways to go.

 

 

He practiced dueling with his left hand, warming up the muscles that had lain dormant the past couple days. He practiced what he would say when the red-clad person reached the top. Again, he went back to look at their progress.

 

 

Had they gone down a bit?

 

 

Nino tapped his foot impatiently and sighed. This was going to take a while. Bored, he put on his best patient smile, and called down, “Hello down there! Slow going?”

To his surprise, they actually looked up and answered. Though he was too far away to read their facial expression, he could definitely hear the annoyance in their tone as they yelled back, “Look, I really don’t mean to be rude, but this isn’t as easy as it looks. So, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

Nino held his hands out in apology, “Sorry!” He backed away as they shouted a terse ‘thank you!’ and practiced his footwork some more. Now that he had heard their voice, he knew it was a woman beneath the red ensemble. This was wonderful news! Nino loved dueling with women-men were often quick to anger and easy to trip up. Women tended to fight with more grace and preferred to outmaneuver their opponents rather than overwhelm them. Although…Nino thought for a moment about Alya’s robust frame. Now _there_ was a woman who could outmaneuver AND overwhelm. It had taken weeks of travelling for Nino to work up the courage to hold an entire conversation with the intimidating woman. He had found that she was very clever, and picked things up quickly. Unfortunately, she had no desire to learn how to duel. She was always interested in his music though-often asking him to play for her long into the night and clapping joyously when he impressed her.

The sound of something tumbling down the rock face distracted him. Right-the duel. Now that he knew his opponent was a woman, he grew even more restless to begin. He rubbed his hands together anxiously and returned to the cliff. “I don’t suppose you could, uh, speed things up?” he called down without much hope.

The frustration in her voice was obvious and deadly, “If you’re in such a hurry, you could maybe lower a rope. Or a tree branch. Or find anything useful to do.” She grunted as she pulled her body up another foot.

Nino shrugged, “I could do that. You know, I’ve still got some rope up here. But, I don’t think you would accept my help since I’m only waiting around to kill you.”

From so far away, he barely heard her dry laugh, “You’re right. That does put a damper on our relationship.”

In a stroke of genius, Nino happily offered, “But! I promise I will _not_ kill you until you reach the top.” He grinned down at her, hoping she would accept.

“That’s very tempting,” she groaned as she gained another agonizingly slow foot, “But I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.”

Still hopeful, he offered, “I could give my word as a musician?”

Not even bothering to look up now, she called back, “No good. I’ve know too many musicians.”

Pouting, Nino grumbled, “I hate waiting. Is there no way to get you to trust me?” He should have known the musician bit wouldn’t work. Only fools thought musicians were honorable, honest tradesmen.

“Nothing comes to mind,” she answered, her tone implying an end to the conversation.

Calling to the depths of his soul, Nino found one of the only truly honorably things he had left. “I swear on the soul of my father, Karim Lahiffe, you will reach the top alive.” Tears welled up as he thought of his lost father, and he knew no one could deny his sincerity.

There was a meaningful pause after this declaration, and then, “Throw me the rope.”

 

 

Nino unwound the remaining rope and held on tight to one end as he tossed the other down, nearly hitting her with its swing. She walked up the cliff side as he slowly pulled her up. A climb that would have taken her another hour, at least, was finished in the next 5 minutes. She collapsed onto the ground when she reached the top, gasping, “Thank you,” and beginning to draw her sword.

He backed away from her, arms waving, “Woah woah woah- we’ll wait until you’re ready. No big rush.”

She looked up at him, blue eyes shining through her well-worn mask, and nodded, “Again, thank you.”

As they both sat, Nino examined her. She stood almost a foot shorter than him, though he was exceptionally tall. This would grant her an advantage in speed, but him an advantage in reach. It was impossible to tell her age under her loose fitting garments. She wore an all red ensemble-her mask, her tunic tucked in at the waste, pants, and even gloves. Everything except for her black boots. The clothes draped over her perfectly, framing her strong physique without drawing the eye anywhere in particular. As she started to regain her breath, he questioned, “I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t by chance happen to have a tattoo on your right hand?”

She looked up at him, confused by the question. “Do you always begin conversations like this?” A hint of a smile tugged at her lip.

“It’s just-my father was killed by a tattooed man. Butterflies, all the way up his arm.” She held up her hand, removing her glove and pulling down the sleeve to reveal nothing but a lithely muscled arm. He nodded. While the only features he remembered from his father’s murder was the butterflies, he had long suspected it had been a man, not a woman, who did the deed. “He was a great swordmaker, my father. When the tattooed man came and requested a special sword, my father took the job. He worked on it alone for over a year before it was done.” Nino pulled the blade from its scabbard, admiring its perfect blade even after a decade’s imperfect use. He offered it to the woman to examine.

She turned it over in her fingers, tested its weight. He had every reason to be concerned for an attack, but could not find it in himself to be suspicious. He felt a kinship with this woman, as though he had known her in a past life. His instincts had always served him well, and he was proven correct in his assumptions when she handed the sword back to him, admiringly saying, “I’ve never seen its equal.”

Giving her more time to catch her breath, he continued, “The tattooed man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth its value. My father-“ Nino coughed, choking on emotions he preferred to keep buried, “My father refused. Without a word, the tattooed man slashed him through the heart. My father was all I had left of my family, so, of course, I challenged his murderer to a duel. I lost. The man left me alive, but he gave me these,” Nino gestured to the scars on each of his cheeks, clear remnants of a fencing sword being sliced across skin.

The woman was quiet and her eyes downturned when she asked, “How old were you?”

Nino almost smiled at the memory-even now, he was surprised at how ludicrous it sounded when he told the story, “I was 5 years old. When I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to the study of fencing. So, the next time we meet,” he did laugh, then, “I will not lose. I will go up to the tattooed man and say, ‘Hello. My name is Nino Lahiffe. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’” The words rang through the silent air.

The woman gaped at him, open-mouthed, for a moment before asking, “You’ve done nothing but study swordplay?”

He stood and began to stretch his legs, “More pursue than study, lately. See, I just can’t find him! It’s been 15 years now and I’m starting to lose confidence. I have some talent with music, but I have to work for Vizzini to pay the bills. Not much money in revenge.” He shrugged.

The woman stood as well, sighing, “Well, I- I really hope you find him someday.”

Nino gave her one last moment to rest, “So, are you ready then?”

She nodded, standing with more certainty with each passing second, “Whether I am or not, you’ve been more than fair.”

Nino truly hoped he could defeat her without ending her life. He tossed his sword experimentally in his left hand, noting curiously that she also held her blade in her left. Even more exciting then-it was rare that he got to duel a true left-handed person. “You seem a decent fellow; I hate to kill you.” He raised his sword.

She smiled. The excitement in the air was palpable, and the joy of the fight was settling upon them both. “ _You_ seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.”

Nino laughed, and prepared to launch forward.

“Begin.”

 

 

 

 

 

Nino gave an experimental thrust forward. She responded quickly, pushing his blade to the side and then returning the testing swing. In an almost mirror move, Nino rerouted her just as quickly.

They both smiled.

Nino took the aggressive stance, charging her towards the cliff and hoping to force an early surrender. However, her blade slid around his, holding her ground steady and only yielding inches at a time. Thrilled, Nino called out, “You are using Bonetti’s defense against me, huh?”

One hand on her hip, she calmly responded, “I thought it seemed appropriate, considering the rocky terrain.” He tongue poked out as he her eyes narrowed, and she advanced on him, pushing him towards a small set of stares that led to a crumbling balcony.

He retreated, trying to use the upper ground to his advantage, “Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capo Ferro.”

Her face turned a light shade of pink, and Nino assumed it was from the same exhilaration running through his veins. She answered, “Naturally, but I find that Thibault cancels out Capo Ferro, don’t you?” She swung low, aiming where he could barely defend at his feet.

He laughed and parried, making the advanced move look simple, “Unless the enemy hasn’t studied his Agrippa,” he tossed his sword into the air, distracting her momentarily as he backed up to a better position, catching it and resuming form, “which I have.”

Even so, the woman in red advanced, pushing him towards the edge of the wall.

“You are wonderful!” He exclaimed, beaming widely.

She seemed relentless as she backed him directly into the short wall, which stood only a few feet tall, “Thank you. I’ve worked hard to become so.”

Their blades crossed, and she beared down on him despite her smaller stature. Nino was immediately reminded of Alya’s strength, and wondered just who this greatly skilled woman was. He was forced to lean back, his shoulderblades digging into the wall, and he felt pieces of it crumble behind him as his head hung over the deadly cliff side. He grunted out, “I admit it-you’re better than me.”

She bared down more-a bit more pressure and the whole wall would cave in, sending Nino tumbling to the ground below. “Then why are you smiling?”

Indeed, Nino’s grin was practically ear-to-ear as he answered, “Because I know something you don’t.”

The barest hint of effort crept into her voice as she tried to force him over the rapidly collapsing wall, “And what is that?”

Sensing his moment, Nino gripped both ends of his sword, barely slicing his palm as his right hand gripped the tip, and shoved her back. With a quick toss, he shifted the sword from his left hand to his right, and gave an impressive flourish, “I am not left-handed.”

He advanced on her, quickly regaining his ground and far outclassing her skill. It had been wonderful to have even a match for his left hand, but now he was prepared to achieve victory. It was her turn to offer compliments, as well as her surrender, “You’re amazing!” she gasped.

He kept his poise, dancing around her blade and continuing to push her, “I ought to be after fifteen years.”

“But, there is something I have to tell you,” she said, her voice bolstered with confidence.

“Tell me,” he thrust again. Just a couple more steps…

“I am not left-handed either.” She gracefully slipped the blade into her right hand, and performed an elaborate series of swings almost too fast to track.

Nino’s eyes went wide, and he tried in vain to match her speed. Within a moment, he had been disarmed, his blade flying behind him, over a two-foot wall at his back. He followed it with his eyes, and then turned back to her, his heart racing with worry. She motioned for him to retrieve his sword, and he climbed over the wall, clearing it clumsily in his haste. He bent to pick it up and stood, blade poised to defend, only to see she had not followed. She tossed her own sword over the wall, where it landed perfectly on its end, handle standing impressively tall. She sprinted towards him, and did a quick and tight handspring over the wall before landing just beside her blade, picking it up and point it directly towards Nino’s chest.

“Who are you?” he asked, amazed.

“No one of consequence,” she smirked.

He pleaded, “I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment.” And then she was on him, easily devastating his defenses once again. He had no way to follow her blade at this close a range, but tried to keep it from touching his skin. As he felt something whiz past his ear, he had an epiphany. She had already won. Her blade zinged past his other ear, and he knew she could cut him to pieces at any moment. As he turned to try and follow its path, she twisted his blade with hers, knocking it out of his shaking hands once more. He knew he was defeated, and sank to his knees, eyes facing forward and stunned at the prowess he had just faced. He feared for Alya, despite her impressive strength. How could anyone hope to fight against someone with such speed?

“Please, kill me quickly,” he begged, dropping to his knees and staring straight ahead.

She walked to his side, and then behind him, as she spoke, “I would sooner destroy a queen’s gown than an artist like yourself. But, since I can’t have you following me either.”

Nino heard the familiar _whish_ of a blade being drawn, and then everything went black.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Woohoo! I’m so unendingly pleased with this chapter. I almost broke it into two but hey, you guys deserved to have this all in one. This one is almost as long as Chapter 9, which is the longest so far. I was really worried that this scene would end up just being a shot-for-shot rewrite of the scene from the film. And, while that’s true of the dialogue, it was so, SO fun writing in more character motivations and reactions. Also, apologies to anyone hoping it would be perfectly accurate to the duel from the movie-I switched up a couple things because it was kind of difficult to describe them moving about the ground without getting confusing, so I decided to write it how I wanted and how it felt natural, keeping in all of the good bits!
> 
> I altered Inigo/Nino’s story a bit, because I just couldn’t convince myself to write in a character with 6 fingers. Like, these are all still people from Marinette and Adrien’s lives. There’s a lot of fantastical stuff that I’m trying to include, but I just couldn’t make that work. So, tattoos!
> 
> Next chapter, we get to hear from Alya, and maybe Copyright. We’ll see how the length goes.


	12. Cause Baby Now We've Got Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lady in Red faces down her next two opponents in an attempt to steal Prince Adrien.

Standing at the crest of a hill, Alya shifted Adrien from her left shoulder to her right and nervously changed her weight from foot to foot. Vizzini stood to her side, where they both watched Nino get handily defeated. They were barely close enough to see the action, and she had frozen in fear when the woman in red raised her sword at Nino’s defenseless back. Holding her breath, the moment seemed to drag on for ages and then the sword fell.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the woman hit Nino with the sword handle, knocking him out instantly. His head (and his pride) might be in pain once he awoke, but at least he would wake.

Vizzini, on the other hand, didn’t seem overly concerned with her incapacitated swordsman. She seethed with fury, “ _Inconceivable_. Hand him over-“ she grabbed Adrien’s bound hands as Alya set the quiet prince down, “Catch up with us quickly.” She began to march away, navigating through a small set of ruins.

Alya looked at Vizzini, and then back at the woman in red who had begun ascending the path in their direction, and then back to Vizzini, “What-what do you want me to do?”

Without turning back, the smaller woman retorted, “Finish him, finish him! YOUR way!”

Alya nodded, “Ah, yes. Good. My way. Thank you Vizzini.” She rubbed her hands together purposefully and thought on how she could out-wrestle the mystery woman. She remembered the lightning fast swing of her blade. No one had ever defeated Nino before. Uncertainly, she called out, “My way, of course. Um, what way was that again?”

With a heavy sigh, Vizzini stopped and turned to face her, “Pick up one of those rocks,” each sentence was punctuated with a sharp point in the appropriate direction, “Get behind the boulder. In a few moments, the woman in red will come running around the bend. The minute her head is in view, _hit it with the **rock**!_ ”

Of course that’s what her crafty little boss expected. As Vizzini charged ahead, Alya muttered to herself, “My way’s not very sportsmanlike.” Even so, she picked up the indicated rock and hid behind the tallest remaining column.

As she heard the woman near the corner, she remembered again how she had spared Nino, refusing to take his life when she had every right. She glanced up the hill, making sure Vizzini wasn’t still in sight, and then threw the rock, at perfect head-height, towards the woman.

It crashed against the wall, breaking into minute pieces, inches away from the woman’s nose. She stopped abruptly, drawing her sword and looking for the threat. Alya stepped out, another rock ready in her powerful and precise arm, “I did that on purpose, you know. I didn’t have to miss.” She tried to sound nonchalant, hoping the woman didn’t hear the slight tremor of nervousness – fear? – in her voice.

It took the woman a moment to respond. She opened and closed her mouth as if to speak, staring into Alya’s eyes like she knew her. It made her very uncomfortable. Luckily, the woman seemed to make a decision, sighing, “I believe you. So, what happens now?” She seemed to be bracing for a fight, steadying her stance and refusing to lower her blade.

Alya shrugged, moving past the awkward eye contact, “We fight each other as nature intended. Sportsmanlike! No tricks,” Alya pointedly glanced at the woman’s left hand, knowing she had used Nino’s own left-handed trick against him, “Skill against skill alone.”

The woman scoffed, “So, you’ll put down your rock and I’ll put down my sword. And we can try to kill each other like ‘civilized’ people?”

Alya’s patience ran a bit thin at that comment. She had always been sensitive about not knowing social norms, but intricate social games weren’t one of her interests. She preferred to be up-front with people, “I could kill you now?” She hoisted her rock once more.

The woman slowly nodded, sheathing her sword and setting it to the side. She rolled up her sleeves, “Frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting,” her tone implied concern, but Alya saw her mouth edge into a smile. She enjoyed fighting. Alya would have to be on her toes.

Alya tried to muster up some bluster, “It’s not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I barely even exercise.” She tossed her rock to the side and got into a defensive fighter’s stance.

The woman charged.

Alya fought the urge to laugh as the smaller woman tried to wrestle her into submission. Despite all of her dexterity, her strength was no match for Alya’s. The tall woman resisted every hold, peeling arms away with ease.

The woman in red stepped back in frustration, her hair mussed and her face red with exertion, “Look, are you just messing around with me or what? Why aren’t you fighting back?”

Alya couldn’t stop her smile then. “I just want you to feel you’re doing well. I’d hate for you to die embarrassed.” The woman’s face turned as red as her tunic. But, now Alya was charging, grabbing for the smaller woman. At the last second, she dodged out of her grasp, rolling to the side impressively. “You’re quick,” Alya granted.

“And a good thing, too,” the woman panted, looking for any weakness.

Alya charged in again, this time prepared for the roll. She brought her arm out and caught the woman in the ribs. She immediately swung her other fist in, catching her stomach and knocking her air out before stepping back, out of the way of a swinging kick. “Why are you wearing a mask?” she questioned, “Were you burned by acid or something?”

The woman sucked in a hoarse breath, holding her chest lightly and smirking, “Oh no. I just think they’re terribly comfortable. And fashionable – I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”

Alya collapsed in again, but this time the woman sunk low, not trying to escape. She wrapped her foot around Alya’s leg and swung herself around the larger woman, wrapping her arms around her neck to cut off the air.

Alya coughed, “I should have known you’d give me trouble.”

The woman tried to adjust, pushing her feet against Alya’s lower back for leverage and tightening her hold. Alya started to see stars. “Well, I haven’t fought just one person in so long.” She backed up to where she knew the column stood behind her. “I’ve been specializing in groups. Battling gangs for local charities, that kind of thing.” She thrust back, hard, slamming the smaller woman into the ruin behind her. The grip loosened barely as she crashed in again.

“Why should that make such a-“ the woman grunted painfully as her back hit the wall again, but then her grip was as tight as ever, “difference?”

Alya felt the head rush that accompanies prolonged lack of oxygen. She barely heard her own voice mumbling as she fought for air, “Well, you use different moves when you’re fighting half a dozen people,” she stumbled forward, darkness touching the edges of her vision, “than when you only have-“ her body tried to gasp in air, but she just fell to her knees, “-to fight…against… _one_.” Alya collapsed to the ground, feeling the arms around her neck tighten once more. _Will she kill me or spare me?_ She envisioned Nino falling to the ground beside her, his eyes wide and brave, and lost consciousness.

 

 

 

Close behind, Princess Chloe rode up to the edge of the cliff, not deigning to step down to investigate the scuffle that clearly occurred. Her best tracker stepped forward, investigating the scene. There were footprints all over the dirt, and a chopped up rope hanging uselessly over the edge. Count Agreste sat at her side, insisting on joining in the hunt to rescue his son. The tracker turned to the royals, waiting for permission to speak. Chloe appreciated people who knew how to hold their tongues. She nodded expectantly, and he launched into a brief description of events, walking through the scene.

“There was a mighty duel.” He stepped up onto the small balcony, gently pushing a loose stone that tumbled over the cliff’s edge. “It ranged all over,” he walked back towards where the rope hung off the edge, and then looked over the low wall Nino had been forced to climb over to retrieve his sword. “They were both masters.”

Chloe grew impatient. “Who won, though? How did it end?” she demanded urgently.

He nodded, pointing first to a set of footprints running parallel to the cliff’s edge, “The loser ran off alone, and the winner followed these footprints to Gilder.” He motioned towards the three sets of footprints running along the path deeper inland.

Chloe waited for him to continue, and then realized everyone was looking to her for orders. How was she supposed to know what to do?! She turned to Gabriel, “Should – ahem – shall we track them both?” She sat tall and regal, trying to hide her fear and uncertainty. After all, anyone brazen enough to kidnap the prince and future king would have no qualms against taking her as well, right?

Gabriel sat in silence for a moment before responding, “The loser is nothing. Only Adrien matters. Clearly this was all planned by warriors of Gilder. We must all be ready for whatever lies ahead.”

Their entourage nodded in agreement, and for once Chloe was happy to go along with the crowd. As they started to march forward, she asked the stone-faced Gabriel, “Couldn’t this be a trap?”

His jaw tensed and he looked even more determined to move, “I always think everything is a trap. That’s why I’m still alive.” He broke into a trot, spurring everyone else to do the same.

 

 

Copyright didn’t need to watch the fight to know the result. The woman in red was destined to win. She took out another scrap of fabric, covering Adrien’s eyes and threatening him heavily should he dare speak. She took some time to arrange a small blanket over the flattest rock in the area, pulled out the bottle of wine originally packed to celebrate the end of another successful job. Two goblets were placed on the table as well, making it seem like this was nothing more than a simple picnic. She shivered in excitement, patting Adrien’s warm hand and drawing her dagger.

It was time for the battle of wits.

 

 

 

Copyright had learned from her last attempts to affect the story. She remembered how the girl, Marinette, had fought back against her control. Sitting in the study, Copyright had watched Adrien and Chloe walk together. Seen Chloe cozy up to Adrien as he shied away. She knew that, soon, Adrien and Marinette would kiss and fall in love only to be tragically separated.

What she didn’t know was that said blue-eyed girl was quietly sneaking through the manor in search of her. When Copyright’s book was ripped away from her hand by-was that some sort of grappling hook? It moved too quickly to be seen, but something round came and wound itself around her book, carrying it back to Marinette.

Marinette had stood frozen in the door for just a second before Copyright’s shriek rang through the halls. The author chased her, through the corridor, down a servant’s entrance, and outside to where Adrien was shielding Chloe from who-knows-what. Possibly her. When he partnered up with the rebellious farm girl, Copyright was furious, and almost took pleasure in sending Marinette to drown in a nearby river. It served them both right for disobeying her. It had taken a week for her to write the story back into some kind of alignment, and, even then, things were still always just a bit off. People had a bit too much influence over their characters. Not to mention the fact that she had to bank on a new Westley showing up.

And this was why, as the woman in red crested the hill into sight, she resisted the urge to pause the scene. To take off the mysterious woman’s mask and find out her true identity. If everything went smoothly (and it would, of course), she would find out soon enough. The one change she _did_ write in was to change the effects of iocane powder. Rather than killing anyone who ingested it, it now simply put them into a deep slumber. This way, she could commit to her part in the battle of wits without worrying about dying.

As the woman drew near, Copyright smiled and raised her dagger to Adrien’s throat. He shied away from the cold steel, but froze once he felt its sharp edge. One wrong move, and he might slit his own throat.

“So,” she drawled, “It is down to you, and it is down to me.” The woman in red continued approaching, and she brandished her knife against Adrien’s throat, “If you wish him dead, then by all means keep moving forward.”

The girl paused, then smiled charmingly, “Perhaps an agreement can be reached?” She began to saunter forward, hands in the air and looking as harmless as possible.

“There will be _no_ arrangement, and you’re _killing_ him,” Copyright dug the knife into Adrien’s flesh, making the boy flinch and staining the blade with a bit of his blood.

The woman’s smile dropped, “Well, if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse.” Her hand clearly itched for her sword, but she kept them carefully out at her sides. Copyright admired her self control.

“I’m afraid so. I can’t compete with you physically, and you’re no match for my brains.” She shrugged dismissively.

The woman took the bait, as Copyright knew she would, asking, “You’re that smart, are you?”

Copyright preened a bit, puffing out her chest. Even though she was acting as Vizzini, she had always considered herself above the average intellect. “Let me put it this way – ever heard of Shakespeare, Homer, Euripedes?”

The pirate answered, “Yes?”

“Morons.”

The woman thought for a moment, and then made her offer, “In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

Copyright pretended to think on this for a moment.

“For the princess?”

The woman in red nodded.

“To the death?”

Another nod.

“I _accept_.”

She sheathed her dagger, and felt Adrien relax slightly beside her.

The other woman requested, “Wonderful. Then pour the wine!”

The woman in red began to sit as Copyright finished pouring. Her foot caught the edge of the blanket, making the glasses wobble. In a flash, her hand shot out to steady the glass but, instead, it was knocked over, dumping all over Copyright’s lap and seeping into her bag. With a shriek, the author began pulling things out of the bag, trying to get to her book before it was damaged. She frantically grabbed at the spine, _just_ managing to grab it before the wine pooled beyond the cover. She wiped off the excess liquid with her sleeve, and looked up to see the woman in red staring, eyes transfixed, at the small book. She tried to nonchalantly set the book behind her, snapping the woman out of whatever spell drew her eyes to the powerful item.

Like rainclouds clearing to reveal the hiding sun, the woman lit up in a beaming smile, apologizing and re-pouring the wine. Copyright tried to shake the odd feeling from a moment before and continue with the battle of wits.

Once both women were settled, the pirate pulled a small vial from some hidden pocket. She uncorked the lid, and handed it over for Copyright’s review, “Inhale this, but do not touch.”

White powder settled at the bottom of the glass, giving no sign of its supposed deadliness. Copyright briefly breathed in at the tip. “I smell nothing.” She handed the vial back.

“What you do not smell is called iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is one of the more deadly poisons know to man.” She delivered the line with practiced ease.

Copyright nodded as though she understood, “Hmmmm.”

With grace that didn’t match her earlier blunder, the blue-eyed woman picked up both goblets in one hand and turned around, out of sight of Copyright, ostensibly filling one with poison. She placed them back on the table, “Alright. Where is the poison?” She gestured over the table. “The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink. Then we’ll find out who is right, and who is dead.”

Copyright gave an easy laugh, “But, it’s so simple! All I have to do is divine from what I know of you – are you the sort of woman who would put the poison into her own goblet,” she flicked said cup, making a metallic _ping_ ring out, “or into your enemy’s.” She gestured to the wine sitting in front of her. “Now,” she tapped her finger on her lip, “a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what they were given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, _you_ are no man. You must have known I was not a great fool. You would have counted on it! So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.” She stopped her tirade to breathe.

The woman in red smiled, amusement dancing in her eyes, “You’ve made your decision then?”

“Not remotely!” Copyright continued, noting how the woman’s gaze never wavered. “Because iocane comes from Australia and, as everyone knows, Australia is entirely peopled by criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as _you_ are not trusted by _me_ , so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you!” Copyright said as much as possible in a single breath.

“Truly you have a dizzying intellect,” the woman offered.

While Copyright knew this to be mocking, Vizzini, her character did not. So, she did not hesitate to keep going, growing more excited and loud by the second, “Wait til I get going! Where was I?”

“Australia.”

“Right! Australia! And, you must have _suspected_ I would know the powder’s origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me!” Her breath came short as she committed to the role.

“You’re just stalling now…” the woman squinted, trying to read where Copyright would go next.

“You’d like to _think_ that, wouldn’t you?! You’ve beaten my Amazon, which means you must be very strong, so you could have put the poison in your _own_ goblet, relying on your strength to save you! But, you’ve also bested my fencer, which means that you have _studied_ , and in studying you must have learned that _man_ is _mortal_ , so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can _clearly_ not choose the wine in front of me!”

The woman leaned back, the very picture of calm. “You’re trying to make me give something away. It won’t work.”

Copyright’s voice rose to a screech, “It HAS worked! You’ve given EVERYTHING away! I know **where the poison is!** It’s – what in the world could that be?” Copyright looked behind the woman, who turned around just as expected, searching for enemies in the treeline.

“Where? I don’t see anything?” Before the woman could turn back around, Copyright switched the goblets, even though she knew it would make no difference.

“Well I could have sworn I saw something,” Copyright put on her best bewildered expression, then let out a laugh, all worry supposedly gone.

“What’s so funny?”

Copyright calmed herself, “I’ll tell you in a minute. First, let’s drink. Me from my glass, and you from yours.” The two toasted, and slowly lifted the drinks to their lips, neither willing to take the first sip. Finally, the woman in red dripped some of the wine into her mouth, and Copyright followed suit once she saw the other woman’s throat bob in a small swallow. They both downed the contents of their glasses.

“You guessed wrong,” the woman said calmly.

Copyright could hardly restrain herself. This was Vizzini’s shining moment. Watching the downfall of this self-proclaimed genius had always appealed to her sense of justice. “You only _think_ I guessed wrong!” Laughter rang through her voice. “I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha! You _fool_! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia. But! Only slightly less well-known is this: Never go in against a Sicilian when **death** is on the line!!” She broke into hysterical giggles and felt the iocane begin its newly-given effect of putting her into a Juliet-like sleep. For most purposes, she would appear dead. Her laugh broke into a maniacal cackle, and then she froze, collapsing on the spot as darkness enveloped her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright expected to wake up alone, perhaps rolled into a ditch. Instead, she groggily opened her eyes to find herself bound, tied to a tree in the forest. In front of her, Adrien also sat, still bound, eyes focused on the woman in red who was nurturing a spark into a small fire. Copyright still didn’t have full control of her motor functions, and she tried to call out and ask what was happening, but all that came out was weak garbling. Even so, the woman in red looked up at her, and fanned the flames even faster. When the fire reached knee-height, the woman reached behind her.

Copyright let loose a terrifying scream as the masked woman threw her book into the fire, flames quickly consuming its pages.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it? Things are about to change up-not so much so that it stops being The Princess Bride, but enough that it’s a bit more Miraculous Ladybug.
> 
> I wish more than anything that I could give Alya a bigger part. She’s such a wonderful character-hopefully she gets to shine once we move to the second major part of the story. I hope the longer length of these chapters makes up for the fact that so much of the dialogue is straight from The Princess Bride. Let me know how you’re feeling about it. We’re about to hit a major diversion from the original, so I’m not too concerned about this sounding just a bit repetitive.
> 
> These were originally 2 separate chapters, but I've been away for a bit and wanted to get both of these out to you. Super big mega shoutout to spade_n_ram (or tumblr user amserpand) for making some amazing fanart! I think I overcommited at the start with updating twice a week, and ended up intimidating myself out of continuing to update this story. But, I've had the next 3 chapters drafted out for quite a while now, so at the very least I'm going to get those posted. It's the least you folks deserve for being so sweet and supportive!
> 
> Spade, I cannot possibly begin to say how much I appreciate the piece you drew. Everyone, you can check out the awesome art at amserpand.tumblr.com/post/179581118106  
> They do lots of other art too, but this one is the best (for obvious reasons). A fantastic capture of our dashing Lady in Red


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